


For her Safety

by Baby_Fangirl



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Mild Language, NSFW, Past Sexual Assault, Physical Abuse, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2018-10-02 19:03:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10225004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_Fangirl/pseuds/Baby_Fangirl
Summary: AU Fiona hired a bodyguard for her reluctant daughter when their company becomes infiltrated. But what Cordelia doesn't expect is her bodyguard to have stunning blue eyes... or to be a woman.Eventual Foxxay.





	1. CPO Day

**_Beep._ **

_“How far back are you asking me to remember? The first Day? Well, I wish I could say that she and I had met somewhere nice, and that we hit it off right away, but that would be the furthest thing from the truth that there could be. I don’t think that we would be where we are now, if we hadn’t gone through the things that we did… but looking back to the first time I met her, there was just one emotion that I had surrounding me, and it wasn’t love or admiration, or anything of the sort, unfortunately…” ~Cordelia Foxx_

* * *

* * *

 

 

Unrefined anger was the only feeling currently coursing through the veins of Cordelia Foxx. No trace of worry or sorrow, just pure and dignified anger. Her dark eyes were sharply narrowed resulting in a frown tugging at her brows and consequently creating the perfect scowl upon her lips that she and her mother were famous for.

Silky blonde tresses had been pulled back into a tight, resolute ponytail that hung dutifully behind the woman but didn’t allow her to run her fingers stressfully through her hair as she was desperate to do, however finding alternate routes to let loose her anger by digging her fingernails into the desk of her office.

Cordelia could hear her own heavy breathing, the only noise in the room besides the gritting of her own teeth. The silence was driving her mad. Inhale. Exhale. Wasn’t breathing deeply supposed to calm a person down? The woman finally slammed her palms down on the smooth, polished surface of her office desk, the echoing bang and the slight sting in her hands seemingly comforting her for just a second.

 

“Fiona, where are you?” The middle-aged lady half spat the words, half groaned them as she stood from her chair and paced around her large office which she had been confined to for the past twenty minutes for, in the words of her mother ‘protection’. She was guessing that the older woman even put her in there to calm herself down, but when stuck in her own room with the events that had just occurred, the last thing Cordelia could imagine herself doing was calming down.

She had long suspected that there was a breech in her company, well, her and Fiona’s company. The Goode’s ran the Robichaux program, a company that was constantly growing and pouring money by the bucketsful into her pockets. Though with the leaking information, seeping daily through their walls, Cordelia had discovered that one of her men on the inside had been working for the business Delphi, and now, five of her employees had been shot, four presumed dead and Marie in critical care. Those were _her_ workers, she had all the right in the world to be angry.

Cordelia Goode sat back down, smoothing out the wrinkles in her knee-length pencil skirt that moulded against her thighs, the perfect glove-fit; she also wore a white blouse with intricate black patterning, loose enough to be comfortable yet clearly tailored to her shape so that it hugged her just right in all the redeeming areas. And undoubtedly, she had topped off the incredibly expensive look with a pair of polished Louboutins that would drop the jaws of models.

It was as if her main goal in life was to make anyone and everyone feel underdressed.

 

It felt like hours later when Fiona Goode strode into her daughter’s office with a regal posture and a determined stride. Just one glance her way and it was obvious to see where Cordelia got her wardrobe choices from, after all, if there was anything those women hated, it was poor self-respect.

Fiona held herself like she owned every single thing, and her gaze either sorely bored with the simplicity of the world around her or looking down like the entire population was beneath her, and Lord did she know it. Although the business was a family inherited one, and people looked up to Cordelia as they did her, there was no mistaking that she was the real rich bitch of power.

Cordelia stood abruptly, pushing her luxury chair back by the force of her actions and circled around her desk to approach the woman halfway into the well open office.

“It’s about time mother. You do understand that you cannot keep me in the dark of what is happening? Instead of cooping me up like a goddamn pigeon! Is there any word on Marie?” She tried to keep herself as cool and collected as possible, though her heart was audibly drumming, pounding from the sheer anxiousness of the situation.

“Talk slower, Delia, how do you expect to televise your interviews when your babbling like a crazed baboon? And Marie…That black lady?” Fiona rolled her eyes pointedly, helping herself to a cigarette as if people hadn’t just died in their own damn company. “I put you up here to protect you, your face is valuable to this program,” the older woman managed around the tab as her nimble fingers worked on the lighter and a spark erupted into flame, igniting the cigarette as she leant against her daughter’s desk. Cordelia let a soothing sigh descend past her nude-rendered lips as she made her way over to the full-length windows from which she could see the skyline. “Aren’t you going to ask what genius plan I’ve come up with now, or are you going to stare at your reflection in that glass for the next twenty-minutes?” Fiona prompted impatiently, blowing a thin stream of pale smoke in the others direction.

“What ‘ _genius plan_ ’ have you come up with, mother?” The younger blonde marched back into the centre of her office, her spine stiff and her lips pressed firmly together. She tried to remember to breath, the slow simmering anger and cloaked panic made it difficult to exhale, preferring to feel the unrelenting pressure on her chest rather than worry.

“I’ve hired you a bodyguard,” She announced matter-of-factly, with a curving tone that sounded delectably like she was pleased with herself… the woman could hire the Queen of England to partake in a toddler’s birthday party if she wanted to, hiring a bodyguard wasn’t that special. And, wait… a _Bodyguard_? Cordelia didn’t need a six-foot tall military man stalking her every second of the day.

“You did _what_? Please tell me you’re joking,” But she for one knew that Fiona Goode didn’t make jokes, it would be more likely to hear a penguin playing the trombone than her mother let loose a pun for general humour.

“Now now Cordelia, it’s in one of my best interests to make sure that you're safe, and right now four people are exiting this building in goddamn body bags, I’d be damned if my own daughter…” The woman abruptly stopped speaking before she got too close to slipping out a phrase that sounded like genuine care. “Don’t be ungrateful Delia, I put in a word for the best CPO that they had, and although the poor thing doesn’t look like much I’m told they’ve given you the finest.” Fiona stated, drawing the cigarette back to her mouth and taking a leisurely drag and allowing the nicotine to sooth her non-existing soul.

“Don’t you think that is a little extreme? I-” her mother cut her off, voice raising sharply as she snapped at the younger woman.

“Extreme? We are head of the finest corporation in the area, and you want to talk of extreme? You drive the most expensive car on the roads, isn’t that extreme? You dress like Kate Winslet is your shopping sister, isn’t that extreme?” Fiona’s shrill voice finally hung in the air and the office became quiet once again. She sighed as if screaming at her daughter wasn’t exactly the course of action she had wanted to take.

The anger hadn’t subsided from Cordelia’s body yet, and having the other woman yell at her just turned her more sour in that moment. Inhale. Exhale. “Alright. Whatever you say. Mother.” The young blonde punctuated rather passive-aggressive with her tone, which of course Fiona ignored, the tell-tale clicking of her heels indicating that she was heading towards the doors.

“CPO Day, would you mind coming here, to see my daughter?” There was no real question in that statemen, just a pure obvious order and Cordelia couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she turned back to stare at the skyline of the city whilst folding her arms over her chest, defining her dominating aura. A woman of her priority and defiance didn’t need a bodyguard.

“Delia this is CPO Day, your bodyguard,” Fiona retorted with a sharp tone of impatience and order, almost daring her daughter to disobey her. Reluctantly, the woman turned on her heel, arms still crossed stubbornly and she set her dark gaze upon the officer, and the woman stood in sincere shock.

 

Her bodyguard was nothing like what she had seen in her mind’s eye. Standing central in the wide arched doorway stood a woman, who’s stance radiated only purpose. Her hair hung in a thick curtain of golden curls rippling past her blazer-clad shoulders.

She was dressed in a well-fitting black suit, and a belt that hung lavishly off her hips. She was built with the figure of a lady, but had the addition of stoic muscle and seriousness that put her in her line of work. The only delicate thing about the girl was her smile, a dainty grin blossoming on colourless lips. But most intriguingly of all, were her shocking blue eyes, Cordelia didn’t know what it was about them, but for a moment all she could do was wonder if her mother had gotten the right person.

Had she been in college or something, Cordelia Foxx would’ve smirked, how she did love a girl in suits, but she didn’t think that way anymore. Simply couldn’t think that way anymore.

“Hi there, I’m Close Protection Officer Day or jus’ Day,” She introduced herself and the business woman immediately took note of her thick lavishing accent. What was that? “I understand that ya ain’t ever had a bodyguard before, don’ know what ta expect. In simple terms, it’s my job ta make sure ya ain’t off gettin' yaself hurt,” Cordelia found herself grimacing at that. Did this wild haired woman think she was prancing off _looking_ for danger? She should have her know that she was a very responsible woman! “Means I’ll be transportin’ ya from A ta B, accompanying’ ya at all situations, an’ expolirn’ premises before ya arrival. It ain’t a hard concept ta understand, I jus’ need ya cooperation,”

Anger was still flaring inside the woman, unable to believe that from now on she was under, what? Permanent supervision? She wasn’t a child, she didn’t need a babysitter!

Inhale. Exhale. Cordelia turned to her mother, who just seemed rather amused from pairing her daughter up with curly-locks, and the older womans smug grin turned her anger into blazing fury. “You know what? Fuck you, Fiona!” she snapped, barging past the accented girl and through the door, letting it slam against the wall from the intensity in which she opened it. She could hear the curl-blonde womans objections and the distinctive footsteps belonging to those CPO boots.

 

She glided through the office blocks and corridors like they were her own, and in a way, they kind of were. People parted for her like Moses and the red sea. How _dare_ Fiona buy her little-miss-protection? How dare little-miss-protection assume that she needed protecting? What happened today was a tragic occurrence… that she was still so damn angry about!

Cordelia stormed straight to her car, slamming the door shut with a bang that didn’t even make her feel better. She sat back in the luxury leather seat and stared out of her rolled-down window and remembered to breath. Inhale… Exhale... Inhale…. Exhale… Inhale…

“Cordelia!” the woman behind the wheel jumped, gasping as her heart rate accelerated from the sudden scare, and she glanced to her side, seeing Day outside her car. The woman rubbed her dark eyes roughly, hoping the girl would have simply disappeared when she looked again. No luck.

“What do you want?” The sleek blonde questioned, dealing with the bubbling anger in her stomach as she slid the key into the ignition.

“Exactly what ya mother is payin’ me ta do… I want ta protect ya, Miss Cordelia. I’m ya bodyguard! That means I need a body ta guard!” She stated almost desperately, never having this much problem with any previous cases.  “I know ya under a lot a stress an’ all at the moment, but ya need ta let me do my job. It helps sometimes, when I-”

“I’m not interested in getting to know you,” The older woman interrupted rudely, starting the engine which rumbled in a smooth purr. She fixed the girl with a stare that was created from her enflaming anger.  Cordelia began to roll up the window.

The curly blonde placed a firm hand on the tinted glass as it steadily rose, and the older blonde paused for a moment, she wasn’t used to this bold behaviour… nobody but her mother stood up to her.  “Ya might want ta consider it,” she pressed on with that fragile smile.  “We’ve got this till ya mother calls it off, an’ it would be much better if we could find a way ta deal with each other.”

Without a word, Cordelia Foxx resumed the window’s ascent.  “I have one.  It’s called: 'rolling up my window and driving away',"


	2. Hospitality

_“Okay, um I just know that… that was one of the worst feelin’s in the whole world, I know what it is ta feel bad, but that was on a whole different level. Like when ya fail at the one thin’ ya were trying so hard ta succeed in, jus’ one goal an’ one person was all it took ta make me feel useless. That’s how it was the whole time, Just failure an’ intimidation. All I knew was that at the time I wasn’ gonna let Mrs Foxx get ta me,” ~Misty Day_

* * *

* * *

 

 

Misty Day indeed had her fair share of overwhelming embarrassment, but she had not spent six whole years of her lonely life pushing hard through physical and mental tests, and the gender stereotypical roles in life, only to be left stranded in the middle of the wet asphalt road, the wind soothingly caressing her hair, as if it knew just how to comfort her.

The Officer knew what it was to be alone, however, so as crystal blue eyes followed on the retreating rear of Cordelia Foxx’s car, Day only felt shame that she was already lacking in her profession. She had been training for this role for six years in close corporation, and for four of those years, she had been beaten around like the personal punchbag because she was thinner, smaller, and the only girl, but what man could learn to be a better fighter when wasting his talents on the weak girl? It was one reason why Misty had excelled so highly, training against buffer rougher guys, learning to be stronger, learning to be better.

She had spent year after year adapting to each defense style, so where she had recognized the moves of all seventeen men who was in her training course, the other seventeen men had been learning to beat down a girl… impressive.

The first few years, Misty had been black and blue, with cuts protruding over every other inch of tinted alabaster skin; and what few friends she had made in university had slowly drifted away after the curly blonde had declined every offer to go out on a Friday night, claiming she needed to train… and all for what?

Now she was here, standing on the road as her client drove away as if the CPO didn’t have a job to do.

The breeze caressed her pale, marble-smooth cheek ever so-softly, as if knew of her loneliness, and offered just a simple touch of affection. Her wild curls blew over her shoulder, swaying gently in the comforting wind. Yet Day was anything but comforted. She watched as the car turned a corner, disappearing out of sight, and before she had a chance to stop it and control herself, the blondes vision blurred as swimming tears collected in stunning blue eyes, stinging, but dutifully staying in place… She was supposed to be the best of her case, and she didn’t cry.

Pulling her work phone from the inside pocket of her pressed blazer, the CPO stalked back onto the pavement, heading in the same direction before dialing in the one number she ever really called.

“ _Hello?_ ” The voice on the other end of the receiver was dazed, almost tired, but the officer knew exactly where her only friend was at this time. Sitting behind his computer in headquarters, slurping on another can of redbull to keep himself awake. Still, the wild blonde had never felt so relieved to hear his fatigued tone.

Misty could feel her heart racing and could hear the blood rushing in her ears. She had never failed a case yet. “Kyle, it’s me, Day, I don’t have time for questions I need you to run me a registration plate now,”

* * *

 

Cordelia Foxx was always quite proud of her home.

It came as no surprise to anyone that her house was situated in one of the more well-appointed places in the city; scrap that, she lived in the best area of the city. Her house was fully detached so she didn’t have the trouble of noisy neighbours. Her place had six bedrooms, several en suites, a swimming pool and hot tub on a deck that enclosed in the wintertime, several acres of immaculately landscaped property easily bought with her own money that kept rolling in like waves on a golden shore.

 She’d demanded that the states allow her to redecorate to the tune of several thousand dollars after she had moved in, and she had hired teams who had redone the spacious, airy rooms to look like a centerfold article for Gracious Living, full of tastefully balanced neutral tones with rustic accents; wrought-iron chandeliers in the dining room; sliding French patio doors that opened into the conservatory, and a completely remodeled stone feature kitchen with a small water fountain constantly flowing in one area. It was a bit big just for her, but not so much on the rare times her husband would actually join her in their home.

In the back garden stood a magnificent greenhouse, just out the way of the tree so that the sun would shine in all directions without interference, and for the reason, the inside of the greenhouse was just as magnificent as the out.

Cordelia pulled up precariously in her drive, in front of the large double garage, scowling at the road as her mind replayed the events that had happened, trying make heads or tails of it all. She pulled her key from its slot and just sat back in the seat, closing her eyes softly and wishing she could wake up as she did that morning and do it all differently. In the serene darkness, Cordelia could almost relax. There was no death, no annoying mother, no stunningly hot bodyguard with burning blue eyes. _Shit._ What was that? It was usually people checking her out, not the other way around.

The curly haired girl had already invaded her life and personal space, she wasn't invading her thoughts too. No thank you.

It had begun obscenely raining half-way through her journey, with such sudden intensity that Cordelia feared for her wind-screen wipers. No sooner had the raindrops cleared from the glass, had another thick sheen of water droplets clouded her vision from the road and the relentless rain lashed down in buckets. She could still hear the heavy pounding of the water drumming off her car roof like rusty nails continuously pouring onto a tin can; it was deafening really. With a reluctant sight, Mrs Foxx exited her car.

Kicking off her expensive, black Louboutins in the hall, Cordelia ascended the curving marble stairs, fingertips barely touching the polished bannister. She was rather anxious to take a shower in unrealistic hope to wash the days events from her body, naively wishing everything would all just wash down the plughole, pass through the sewers and end up somewhere in the ocean, just far far away from her. There was just something relaxing to the woman, about the hot spray of water dowsing her body, the cleanliness and purity that she had lost in her life came back for several minutes.

Cordelia started running the water as she stripped, letting her garments pool on the floor of her main bathroom in a mound of thin fabric. It was almost as big as her office, with a lavish, deep bath tub and a separate shower and an extended mirror across the wall above relished basins. Yes, she had inherited the Goode taste and style, living in luxury was a happiness that she could afford.

With that thought a sturdy smirk fondled the woman’s lips as she cast a knowing glance to her reflection in the mirror before stepping into the shower.

 

Cordelia really did find peace in the water, come on, she had a swimming pool and a hot tub for Christ's sake; but the woman had successfully washed away her bitter resentment for the time being. Having hand dried her hair best she could, the woman securely wrapped herself in a thick, fluffy towel and padded out of the bathroom, down the hall.

The woman let loose a startled yelp, physically jumping when she entered the next room to see CPO Day standing dutifully in one corner, her blonde curls hanging nearly straight with the added weight of the rain water drenching her hair. Underneath the black jacket, Day’s white blouse had become close to transparent, clinging to her soaked body like a lifeline.

“Where in your job description did it say you were liable to give me a heart attack?” Cordelia all but screamed, clinging tighter to the towel that was wrapped securely around her. The older woman’s heart was racing, as if the officer was an alien standing in her drawing room, and it took much longer than it should of to get the insistent beating under control.

“Where in ya conscience did ya think it was okay ta leave me behind?” she replied instantaneously, her thick Cajun accent rising in volume to match the way the other had yelled at her, and she was rather pleased when the shorter blonde fell silent, dark eyes wide as if she didn’t know Day had it in her to talk back like that. But make no mistake, the girl wasn’t going to let anyone ruin her job, not even little-miss-rich with her egotistical ways.

“ _Please,_ ” Cordelia expressed, almost in a tone of unadulterated disbelief, “don’t pull the Jiminy cricket card on me. How did you follow me? And God, why are you here?” the older woman snapped and stormed over, leaving an appropriate distance between the pair of soaked women, one with a see-through blouse, the other with just a towel.

The shivering blonde rolled her eyes, shrugging unnecessarily, “I memorised ya registration plate and tracked that,” she reeled off casually, like tracking a car plate was an everyday occurrence, “I’m CPO, close protection officer. _Close_ protection Cordelia, an’ believe it or not, that doesn’t qualify when you’re here an’ I’m a whole town away!”

“Oh my God, Day, are you _crazy_?” The shorter woman shouted, gesturing with her one free hand, still clutching the fabric tightly to her chest.

“Misty,” The officer replied, quieter this time as she crossed her arms, simply to keep out the cold that was bitterly biting into her skin. She had been on this case for just over three hours and she could swear with her hand on her heart that this was the most complicated assignment that she had been called to.

“Well I guess that answers _that_ question,” Cordelia stated harshly, channelling her inner rage again as her breathing became heavier. What was it about this officer that made her so goddamn angry?

“No, my name, I’m Misty Day,” The late introduction was less than civil and Cordelia wondered, if in an Alternate Universe where she wasn’t a woman of refined business and the curly blonde wasn’t stalking her, then perhaps those words would’ve been spoken in a neat little coffee shop in a well-lit booth one sunny morning.

But this wasn’t an alternate universe; all she had was an expresso machine in the kitchen and it certainly wasn’t a sunny morning, the rain hammering on the windowsill was proof enough of that. Cordelia was shortly seething again, and for that she blamed her short temper and the fact that her bodyguard had gone to such extents as memorizing her goddamn registration.

“Well, I’m fucking pissed, nice to meet you,” she retorted sarcastically, an irritated flame flickering dangerously in her dark gaze that only stared in accusation at the younger blonde. The Cajun stared back, unwavering and resolute like they were engaging in some deadly staring contest.

“Pleasure,” Misty bit back immediately, although she looked like a child, standing there awkwardly as if she was receiving a telling-off from her mother, her hair dangling by her cheeks, threatening to curtain in front of her face if she looked any further down at the floor.

For a while both women just stood and observed the other, daring one to back down first, but it was obvious that they were equally as headstrong and it was Cordelia Foxx that finally broke the silence, making sure to glance the bodyguard up and down and heaving a more than unwilling sigh.

“I can’t get rid of you until my mother writes you off, correct?” The older woman made sure that the rain-soaked blonde could detect the distaste in her tone, as if having a bodyguard was as much hard work as having a dog. Misty rolled her eyes at the dramatic flare that the other used to accompany her words, who was she trying to impress?

“Yeah,” the girl confirmed almost tiredly as if she couldn’t be bothered to waste more energy on another scuffle or argument, just inwardly glad that Cordelia had finally seemed to get it into her brain that she was staying around for the time being.

For another minute they stood their awkwardly, Foxx was beginning to feel the effects of the air chilling her skin from the comparison of the hot shower that she had exited not that long ago. She dipped her head, finally relenting as another sigh billowed past her lips. “Fine! Use a spare room, get out of those wet clothes and don’t make a goddamn mess. But don’t think for a second that you’re here as a friend,”

Misty didn’t know what to say, not exactly feeling on the right enough terms with Cordelia to thank her, besides she knew the woman wouldn’t have taken her in if she didn’t have to. The CPO just nodded, inwardly looking forward to changing from her soaking attire.

“This should be the part where you say something along the lines of: ‘ _Wow, Mrs Foxx, thank you greatly for your generous hospitality_ ’,” Cordelia retorted to fill the silence, indicating for the taller girl to follow her on her sudden half-assed tour. She was letting the Cajun stay under her roof, that didn’t mean she had to stop the sarcastic quips from flying off her tongue at every opportunity.

Misty scoffed, following the other reluctantly, “Oh goodness, where on earth are my manners?” she inquired sarcastically, making sure the other woman knew that she understood their predicament. They were not friends, not even close.

“Couldn’t tell you, but if you left them at my office, I’ll stash them in lost and found for you,” Cordelia responded with no humour in her tone, leading her bodyguard to one of the spare rooms and all the while trying not to acknowledge the ocean blue eyes that she felt burning into her back.


	3. Just a bar

_“Are we recording? We are? Okay… I guess I love being in control, I admit, what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t enjoy the responsibility of control? God, do we have to do this? I can barely remember what happened. I suppose I just didn’t want Misty in my life, because I was happy with the way things were without her, and she was so intrusive, so different, I didn’t want her moulding into my routine, my work as if she belonged in my life… because she didn’t,” ~Cordelia Foxx_

* * *

* * *

 

 

Misty Day didn’t really know what to make of the place she was in; genuinely, it was a stunning house, with impressive interior design, but the wild blonde could help but think that Cordelia’s home was more a publication, a banner of wealth more than satisfactory tastes in wallpaper. It was nothing compared to her place. The girl lived more at her site, she had free access to the gym there after all, and so her home could go for days on end without hosting a person. It was relatively small, big enough for her, but her whole house could probably fit in the other womans back garden and conservatory combined.

She sat cross-legged atop the beige silk bedspread that had as much grip as an ice cube, causing her every little movement to inch her closer to the edge of the bed and threatened to send an officer avalanche crashing to the floor. Cordelia Foxx had assured her rather regrettably that nobody was going to assassinate her in the time it took for Day to change, the tone accompanying the statement conveying to her that the older woman _wanted_ someone to put her out of this misery.

The CPO had spent more time than she would have liked to drying her mess of wild hair, not that she was overly joyed about occupying the same room as the shorter blonde, but truthfully, Misty still had a job to do, otherwise she would be kicking back in her chair in headquarters besides Kyle with a cup of hot chocolate and let Cordelia just drive away. But she was the best of her program, quitting wasn’t an option.

 

Though staring intently at her lap dressed in a towel robe while her clothes hung in shame over the radiator, Misty felt like a failure. Sure she didn’t have to be on good terms with the other woman, it wasn’t a necessity; but something within the Cajun felt broken, like she knew something could have been better. Her hesitant fingertips gently caressed a purple bruise that had formed on the inside of her thighs, wincing slightly even from the most delicate touch. Day didn’t want to dwell on the mark that tainted her skin, she was all too used to bruises after all… but she quickly exited the room, as if wanting to escape the thoughts before they had a chance to upset her.

“I was starting to think you had gotten lost,” Cordelia announced when the curly-haired blonde descended the stairs, her borrowed robe tied tightly around her waist, the belt knotted intricately as if she was trying to show off her tying skills.

The older blonde was reclining on the foam comforter, looking more like she belonged in a white roman toga, eating grapes from a servant maid’s hands whilst relaxing and looking radiant. Though Cordelia was now clad in a slimming black cocktail dress that was riding up her thighs in such a position and her golden tresses ever so lightly curled, hanging perfectly in shape.

“Would that have concerned you?” Day questioned as she entered the living room, less than gracefully, preferring to make eye contact with the carpet rather than Mrs Foxx herself.

Cordelia let a small smirk pull in the corner of her lips before answering, “No” and although Misty refused to send her bright blue stare her way, the rich woman let her gaze linger uncomfortable long upon her bodyguard, noting how the bath robe that she was oh-so familiar with came up higher on the girl than it did on her, revealing a nice display of her long, toned legs.

The Cajun must have been overcome with the sense of discomfort and sat down in the chair furthest away, curling her feet up beneath her and still watching the floor like it was the most exciting thing. The older woman still sat there for several minutes, a smug grin featuring upon her painted lips as she brushed her silky tresses over one shoulder, before breaking the silence that had settled between them.

“I’m going out for a drink with my husband, I suppose you want to tag along,” she declared, as if CPO Day actually had a choice. Noticing the look of hesitation and anxiousness that flashed across the bodyguard’s eyes, the woman sighed before exclaiming, “It’s _just_ a bar,”

Hank worked out of town, in a mediocre company that Cordelia deemed rather unimportant, and although she loved the man, it got hard at times when he would stay away for weeks on end, in some booked motel, living off cigarettes and take-aways. He would work for extended periods of time and come home reeking of alcohol, but the woman didn’t bring it up, knowing she had limited time with her husband before he was gallivanting off for another week or two.

The curly blonde rolled her head back to cast a questioning glance at the clock that ticked rhythmically on the other wall, it was only half past six, accompanying Cordelia to a bar and making sure she doesn’t die while she’s there seemed like a reasonable task. After a moment of prolonged contemplation, Misty sighed before nodding curtly.

 “Alright then, Chuck Zito, go get changed,” the woman retorted dully, waving her hand as if she were dismissing the younger blonde from duty. But Misty didn’t move, the bottom of her feet firmly rooted to the floor, whether to defy the older woman, or that she simply didn’t understand the order, she wasn’t exactly sure.

“My uniform’s still wet,” The Cajun commented dryly, choosing to ignore the reference to the celebrity bodyguard that Cordelia had bestowed upon her. She cast her mind to her suit hanging limp off the radiator almost sadly, there was no way she could wear that now.

The business woman audibly groaned, pushing herself off the chez lounge, almost instantly missing the comfort as she led the wild blonde back to the spare room that was located right beside her own (by strict orders of CPO Day herself). “You simply can not parade around the bar looking like a bodyguard, people will get nervous around you,” Cordelia stated flatly, sighing as she pulled open one of the closets.

Misty was about to remind the blonde that looking like a bodyguard was practically her job, when Mrs Foxx continued after drawing a breath. “I’d have thought you’d be old enough by now to dress yourself, Day,”. The slight screech of the coat hangers against the rails were driving the girl insane. She had absolutely no doubt that this act was not out of the kindness of Cordelia’s heart but more out of the consciousness that she had to be seen around the younger woman.

Cordelia let loose a soft grunt, pulling out a pink dress and holding it up with a bored expression written on her features. “What about this?”

“I’d rather go out in your bath robe,” Misty decided, even going so far as to twirl in the mirror, as if actually admiring the attire as a proper outfit. The older woman sighed again, irritated that her bodyguard was just so different to everyone else… everyone else followed orders, made her life easier, stayed out of her way! She wasn’t like that.

The business woman rolled her eyes, only slightly offended, knowing anyone else would have died to get the honour of wearing one of her dresses. She herself had probably only worn it once, perhaps to a conference party and had then left it in her closet to gather dust, never to see the light of day again. “Fine! Pick whatever you want! You can’t mess my life up any more than you have. I’ll be in the hall. hurry up,” Cordelia punctuated her words as she did often when she was angry, and took care to deliberately slam the door shut on her way out.

The officer hardly ever set a foot inside a bar, of course, when she was celebrating with Kyle and a few others, Misty hadn’t cared, but apart from that she had never gone of her own accord. She always had to be alert and wary of everything… She had only ever gotten drunk once in her twenty-five years and… the young woman shook her head immediately, wanting to get rid of the thought before it could haunt her again.

The older blonde had a lot of clothes. Much more packed in one wardrobe than she had ever had… and there were another three in this room… and there were another five rooms. No woman could possibly wear all of those clothes in her life. But Misty took her time, inspecting each garment on its hanger before moving on to the next. It wasn’t until ethereal fingertips brushed against the lapel of a tight-fitting leather jacket did the curly-haired woman figure what she was going to wear to a bar.

 

Cordelia was growing ever impatient, after all, she wasn’t used to having to wait for somebody else unless it was her mother, and look at how great their relationship was. It was currently ten minutes to seven, and she had agreed to meet her husband at ten past, if CPO Day didn’t hurry, she was dead set on leaving without her. Tapping her foot petulantly on the floor, she glanced at her silver watch for the fourth time that minute, alternating her gazes between the time, the door, and her own outfit. Just another minute passed sluggishly by before the bodyguard opened the door.

And thankfully, she looked less of a bodyguard, and more a regular woman.

Day was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a pair of boots that moulded to her ankles, a loose black blouse with a decently low neck-line topping it all off with the leather jacket that Cordelia had forgotten that she owned. The jacket was a very good touch, not that she was about to openly-admit that to her current nemesis (that wasn’t _too_ extreme, was it?) any time soon.

The older woman personally paired the outfit off with one of her skirts, to flaunt the others long legs, showing off a lot, yet, not enough.

Cordelia shuddered and mentally opened a box.  She took the thought of Misty wearing one of her skirts that rode just down her thighs, stuffed it into the box and closed the lid quickly and firmly. Foxx locked it securely; placed several stacks of encyclopaedias on top of it and proceeded to shove the box into a closet. Then the woman locked the cupboard, placing a board over the door and nailed it shut.

 _Nope._ Cordelia Foxx thought in that moment. _Not getting into any kind of mess with that. Why is this thought in my head anyway?_ For a second, she didn’t know what to say. No sarcastic quip came rushing to her aid, no rude comments entered her mind. Usually she didn’t have a problem finding something to criticize, but then she finally stared up into bright, blue eyes.

“You look decent,” the woman finally spoke, giving the Cajun a quick glance over but with much more attention than she was comfortable with and checked the time again as if to pass the comment away.

“Was that an almost compliment?” Misty inquired with a daring grin tugging at the very corner of her lips, sapphire eyes sparkling. Cordelia rolled her eyes, pulling her keys from her Kate Spade purse.

“No, get your ass in the car now, otherwise I’ll let you walk in the pouring rain again,”

 

* * *

 

 

The bittersweet air was not the most pleasant, like a sickening slap to the face shortly after walking through the door; and neither was leaning against a tattered black wooden table, sticky with multiple layers of stale alcohol.  

But the smell disappeared a couple of long minutes later, as Cordelia became carried away with the pub atmosphere, her nose forgetting the fresh evening air outside, and her eyes becoming accustomed to darkness and dimmed red lights whilst her ears surely filled with the buzz of endless chats and dry laughter. Hank hadn’t shown up yet, but that was okay, it was only 7:09 and it was usual for the man to be late.

“So, what’s your husband like?” the Cajun questioned from the seat adjacent and Cordelia glared at her; Misty was pretty sure from her expression that the older woman was thinking about setting her head on fire. In the interests of not being beaten to death with one of Cordelia’s Louboutins, she abandoned the abortive attempt at conversation, and they sat there in silence, mostly ignoring each other whilst the music rang around them.

Cordelia had begun to worry herself when her husband didn’t show twenty minutes later; her dark gaze glued to the door and her hopes rising every time it opened, only to have another couple or a different man entering every single time. She had a glass of tequila in her hands to calm her nerves, all the while Day refused to drink, her eyes darting around the bar to observe every face and memorise each exit.

“Hank’s a contractor, he works hard for himself and is rather successful,” Cordelia muttered, hoping that Misty’s attempt at conversation didn’t have an expiry date. The curly blonde focused her attention on the woman with interest. “We met when I was eighteen and he was a real charmer, but we only got back together five years ago after our differing lifestyles pulled us apart,”

She explained, finding that the one-sided conversation was better than the heavy silence that had settled quite awkwardly between them. “He used to shoot pheasants with his father when he was a boy, but after his father’s death Hank was just looking for someone else to love him. He’s sensitive like that, wants a family. But we’ve delayed that because he spends weeks at a time away from home, just to work. He’s a dedicated man,” Cordelia expressed with another glass in her hand, staring with an unfocused gaze.

“He sounds like a jerk,” The Cajun admitted, resting her head on her hand at the closing of the womans speech. Dark brown eyes snapped up to blue. Why did everyone seem to have a problem with Hank? Her mother despised her husband and her bodyguard hadn’t even met him yet and already she was making assumptions. _Just wait till he gets here… you’ll see._

“You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have a good man,” Cordelia almost sneered, tearing her gaze away from the younger blonde as she focused on steadying her breathing.

“Neither would you. What good man leaves his wife stranded at a bar” What did she care anyway? The shorter woman was just about to argue when her phone rang, providing a welcome distraction from her growing irritation. Pulling the phone out of her purse, and observing as Hank’s contact illuminated the screen, she quickly accepted the call.

“Hi honey, are you in traffic? How long will it take you to get here?” Cordelia rushed, not wanting to have to endure sitting alone with her bodyguard for much longer… she’d go insane.

_“Hey babe, about that… I’m sorry I can’t make it, I’m all tied up with work, you know how busy it gets on the weekend.”_

The woman felt something within her deflate, understanding that being set up like this was become a more regular occurrence. He was supposed to be meeting her tonight because he didn’t show last time, and was making it up to her, “Hank, you promised,” Cordelia barely whispered, a sigh falling from her cherry-rendered lips as she dared to cast her gaze towards the girl who was asking for a glass of water from the bartender. _Don’t you be right, Don’t you dare be fucking right, CPO Day._

 _“I know baby, and I’m sorry, we’ll do this next week, okay?”_ Next week. Next Month. Next Time. There was always a next time that they never got around to.

“Okay,” the woman whispered into her phone, trying to pick her spirits back up, “I love you,” She closed her eyes gently for a second, silently pleading for him to say it back, just to comfort her for a while.

 _“You too, I gotta go.”_ The words had only just landed on her ears before he hung up and Cordelia was left, clutching her cell for a while longer, as if perhaps he might just call her again, but with the harsh realisation that it wasn’t going to happen, she pocketed her phone.

“Jerk,” Misty muttered, raising her glass of water to her lips with a hidden smugness like she had just proved her point.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Cordelia snapped, whipping her head around to focus on the wide-eyed bodyguard, startled by the woman’s sudden rage. “You don’t know him… he’s as happy about this as I am… He’s a good man, CPO Day, I just miss him alright?” She explained harshly, but her tone was probably much more broken than she intended it to be.

Misty placed her soft, warm hand over Cordelia’s for a moment, her thumb barely brushing over the skin on the back of her pale, porcelain hand, “I’m sorry,” was spoken with pure sincerity, almost apologetically as concerned blue eyes focused upon the older woman. _Why is she touching me?_ Cordelia wondered, but didn’t recoil, despite how much of her was screaming to do just that.

After a second of silence, the officer removed her hand, rather keen that the affectionate action did not happen and with a sigh, Foxx spoke up, “Can I have a dry Vodka Martini please?”

 

* * *

 

 

Cordelia finished off her third gin roughly two hours later, almost slamming the glass down on the table as the officer watched her worriedly. She had tried to reason with the woman, who was now clearly intoxicated, but obviously at the time, the older woman had ignored the wild blonde. Cordelia turned to the body guard, almost squinting up at her as if he had trouble seeing. “Day?” she slurred ever so slightly, a very loose grin hanging off her lips. She was smiling at her? This was a first.

“What?” Misty answered rather roughly, irritated how a woman so strong and powerful could be reduced to a drunken mess in the matter of a few hours. She didn’t care much for Cordelia, the woman had a Grade A attitude that she could only just tolerate, but even her cold glare was better than her intoxicated foolishness. But suddenly she regretted the harshness of her tone, seeing the hurt reflect in dark brown eyes and CPO Day even contemplated apologising.

“No need to be so mean…I have a question,” The older woman continued, already forgetting about the previous situation as if she had the memory of a goldfish and continued glancing up at the Cajun with a look of genuine confusion and a glimmer of intrigue. This was the most interaction that they had endured together.

“Alright, what’s ya question?” Misty asked finally dropping the cold barrier she had been putting up to deflect the woman’s harsh remarks and for a split-second they almost looked like simple friends, getting together over a drink of… water and several alcoholic shots.

“So, you’re my bodyguard, which means you’ve got to protect me right?” the older woman began, her head canting to the side as if she didn’t possess the strength to hold her head upright.

“I’m startin’ ta question that myself,” the Cajun let a grin pull on her lips at her own joke, whereas Cordelia seemed plainly confused by the answer. Misty proceeded to roll her eyes softly, a loose laugh descending from her smooth lips. “Yeah, I gotta protect you,” now the woman seemed elated.

The shorter blonde tapped her manicured nails on the bar top with feverish rhythm before continuing drunkenly. “So, you’d protect me from a shark?”

“There aren’t any sharks in the city, Miss Cordelia,” Day enthused, sipping on her water as she watched the other dip her head forward gently and giggle, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as she did so.

“I like that,” she stated, referring to the endearing term, proceeding to address the issue again, "But what if there _were_?” Her dark chocolate eyes were now trained on her bodyguard intensely, a warm smile dancing sweetly on her lips.

“Then yes, I’d protect ya from a shark,” The girl chuckled lightly, wondering to herself where this version of Cordelia came from? _Wait… m’I dreamin’?_ But all the same, she nodded slowly, resting her empty glass on the counter.

“What about a grenade? Lion? Falling coconut?” Cordelia challenged, her voice growing slightly louder by the second, each question tumbling from her lips like she simply couldn’t contain her curiosities, and the officer was sincerely hoping none of these actually got put to the test.

“Yes, yes and yes,” she reeled off easily, her features relaxed with pure sincerity that Mrs Foxx even gasped slightly. Where the hell would a coconut fall from in this part of the world?

She seemed to think about the next question, as if she was really considering this one compared to the others, glancing up to the bodyguard Cordelia whispered, “Would you stop a bullet for me Misty?” Misty. It was the first time she had actually used the girls name, but why Lord, did it have to be when she was drunk, had no filter on her words and were discussing potential ways in which the older woman could get hurt?

“Yes, I would,” She nodded again, her warm lips hosting a genuinely soft smile, though those sparkling blue eyes seemed sad, as if she were envisioning the event in her minds eye.

“Guys did you hear that? Day would catch a bullet for me!” Cordelia exclaimed, turning on the bar stool and almost falling off it without the bar to support her leaning weight. A few people cheered for her, glasses clinking and ale splattering the floor whilst the woman laughed and Misty hopped from her stool to steady her.

“Come on, Dee, I’m gonna drive ya home,” the older woman didn’t object which the bodyguard inwardly thanked God for, and made her way to the doors, one wobbly foot in front of the other.

Misty still couldn’t believe it. Cordelia, who normally glided along with all the deadly intent of a panther, had suddenly developed the coordination of a baby giraffe on stilts. Heels that the Cajun had watched her walk in like a power bitch suddenly made the older woman look like one of those underfed catwalk models walking in shoes three sizes too big. She’d been stifling a laugh as she watched Cordelia stagger her way to the exit, up until the point when she had completely lost her balance and before Day knew it, she had caught the drunk woman in her arms.

She really did save her from anything, including the rapidly approaching floor.


	4. Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I don't usually listen to music when I'm writing, throws me off a lot, but, I did listen to Orianthi- According to you. It's a great song, give it a listen if you want!

_“There’s jus’ this thing, y’know? It’s hard to explain, like a hope that ya know is all futile, but ya still hopin’ despite the facts. Well that’s how I was feelin’… Miss Cordelia an’ I, we got off on a real rocky start, still I couldn’t help but try an think imagine a side to her that she doesn’t really show ta anyone. She’s mean, she’s tough, but there had ta be somethin’ more ta her, even if at times that she tried ta prove ta me otherwise” ~Misty Day_

* * *

* * *

 

Cordelia pulled herself forward in her black, leather-bound chair, using her office desk as leverage as the seat rolled slowly towards the counter and the older woman inhaled deeply, letting loose a long sigh. Her forefinger and thumb gently pinched the bridge of her nose and her dark eyes drifted close, fighting the urge to fall asleep right there.

That morning hadn’t been particularly pleasant. Cordelia woke with a searing headache and a broken heart as CPO Day shook her from her slumbers and exclaiming exhaustedly that the shorter blonde needed to work. How anyone could wake the hungover business woman and walk away with their organs still inside of their body was a mystery to everyone.

She had woken dreadfully early in the middle of the night as well when darkness still bathed her bedroom. Her wandering hand had found the switch of her bedside lamp and the sudden light made her wince in pain. The golden glow reflected off the surface of water and for a long second the woman had tried to remember putting that there. Then it came quite clear the Day must have gotten her a glass of water, for two small white tablets settled on the wood as well and it had taken less than a second for her to wash down the pills that would hopefully cease her nausea. Her bodyguard wouldn’t receive any verbal thanks, but her mental gratitude would do.

 

Misty had driven her to work an hour and a half later, barely conversing… which did have its benefits: it meant that Cordelia didn’t insult the Cajun with every sentence that passed her plump strawberry lips; and the wild-haired blonde didn’t aggravate the other by saying something out of turn… or saying something, period.

The older woman glanced around her office, her dark gaze narrowed at nothing in particular before her mobile was in her firm grasp without even thinking about what she was doing. The curly blonde had a habit of not leaving Cordelia’s mind and it was becoming a bother to concentrate on her work. Dialling in the memorised number, she held the phone to her ear as it rang.

 _“Delia, you know you’re supposed to ring in emergencies or important situations. I know you, so you shouldn’t be calling **ever**.”_ Fiona answered the call almost immediately with a tone that hinted pure boredom with a slight twinge of the classical-Fiona-irritation that felt more like a burdening itch than a simple phone call.

Cordelia rolled her eyes at the common insult that she had grown used to whenever the woman answered her phone, and she waited just a second to make sure the older woman was done before she began to speak, “Very funny mother, I need you to write Misty off,” Straight to the point as usual, letting the other know that there were to be no false pretences.

 _“Misty?”_ The word echoes through the receiver, effecting the younger woman in ways that she couldn’t describe, almost triggered by the name. She glowered dangerously, staring out the window and cursing the sky that stretched over herself and her mother.

“The bodyguard… the Bodyguard _you_ burdened me with!” Mrs Foxx declared with an obvious hint of accusation entwining into her tone as she spun just a little on her chair.

 _“Oh boo hoo hoo Cordelia, woman up and just deal with her,”_ Fiona’s voice rang clear and demanding through the phone, more of an order than the stereotypical ‘motherly-advice’, yet Cordelia was more than used to having the woman barking harsh commands, no stranger to her rude and expecting tones.

“Mother, you call her off immediately!” She stated, just as loud and bursting with authority.

 She could hear Fiona Goode sighing on the other end of the line, and could somehow psychically tell that the woman was rolling her eyes with a printed smirk residing smugly upon thin lips, _“None can do,”_

“But I don’t need her! I’m fine!” Cordelia desperately assured, rather missing the peace and quiet of having her home to herself and not having a bodyguard by her side every second of the day. She worked alone; she lived alone (aside from the rare days her husband wasn’t working); she ate, slept, survived… alone.

 _“Are you safe?”_ Fiona inquired, sounding as if she were finally listening to her daughter. About Goddamn time.

“Yes!” Mrs Foxx answered immediately, on the edge of her seat and wishing, wishing harder than she had ever wished before, that her mother was considering making her a free woman once again.

 _“Then she’s doing her job splendidly, she stays.”_ Fiona chirped snidely whilst the other groaned, the sound vibrating in the very back of her throat, canting back her head as her eyes closed tightly. It was just her luck to have a mother who cared enough to get her a bodyguard, but not enough to release her upon the girls sincere begging.

“Ugh! I hate you,”

 _“That’s obvious, Look, I’m going to pretend that I have this conference meeting to go to… Well would you look at that, I have a conference meeting to go to, Deal with this on your own, Delia,”_ With that the woman hung up, leaving the blonde to sit back in her chair utterly defeated before losing her stance and rest her head on her arms atop the solid surface.

 

Cordelia looked up tiredly from her desk a short while later, sighing gently whilst staring into space for a moment; when she saw the front door open in the lobby the woman suddenly started paying attention and no longer lost in an unfocused haze. She didn’t have any appointments today. Through the floor-length, glass walls of her office she observed the unexpected:  Misty, with her wild curls hanging loose over one shoulder, wandering through the front door as though lost in the woods.

_What on earth could she want now?_

The older woman caught her lower lip between her teeth as she straightened her posture, intent gaze glued to her bodyguard and observed as Misty paused, grinning sweetly at her receptionist who had obviously made some kind of comment. Her bodyguard nodded softly and let loose a melodic laugh that didn’t reach Cordelia’s ears. The girl perched on the edge of the desk and the redhead stood, leaning precariously forward to touch a lock of golden curls; she watched the scene unfold as Day laughed again, her lips moving in friendly conversation.

God, was her receptionist _flirting_ with her bodyguard? Mrs Foxx had half a mind to storm out there and snap some sense into the young redhead and slap some sense into the girl who was supposed to be protecting her, not letting the stereotypical receptionist whore feel her hair like it was magical.

The office phone finally beeped with a disturbingly high pitched noise and Kylie addressed her from the receptionist desk out front in a far-away, girlish tone “Mrs Foxx, Day's here to see you.” The sincere brown gaze hadn’t left from the duo that sat just outside her walls, and it annoyed her to no ends to see them smiling so casually and happy.

Cordelia rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair as another crestfallen sigh tumbled from her lips. “Kaylee, my office is a fishbowl. I can see that. Send her in.” Before the line had ended, she heard the redheads obnoxious giggling and the business woman was met with silence until CPO Day creaked open her door with her hip.

That smooth grin was still settled on her lips as the bodyguard wandered over, dressed in another black suit with a waistcoat and a black bow situated beneath her well ironed collar. Misty offered a gentle smile before remembering whose company she was in and set down the warm coffee cup on the desk with naught but a deflated sigh.

Her thoughts were drawn to the day previous when she had first laid eyes on the young blonde, and the fragile smile that had then occupied her pale lips; it had vanished now, the mere ghost of her grin was present only in the woman’s mind. Did she do that to her? And when did she suddenly develop a conscience? Cordelia shooed her thoughts away with ease as her gaze washed up to downcast sapphire eyes.

“Thought ya might be thirsty,” Day excused, nodding curtly to the cup that she had left in front of the older woman before returning to refined silence, her posture strong and unwavering with her hands folded in front of her. Cordelia let her gaze fall to the drink, suddenly unsure whether or not to be thankful.

“I’m… sorry if I gave you a false impression, just because of what happened last night… it doesn’t mean that anything has changed in the way I work. You’re my stalker bodyguard, that’s it,” Mrs Foxx spoke with a clipped voice as she let her long fingers curl around the warm cup, allowing the heat to seep into her fingertips soothingly without a single word of gratitude.

The Cajun nodded, her wide blue eyes almost pained… though she couldn’t exactly tell, she had never been good at reading people besides Fiona. “I know my place, Miss Cordelia, and I didn’t expect anythin’ less,” Misty let her gaze fall to the tiles at her feet, and the older woman could almost feel the disappointment radiating off the young blonde.

“Now, what are you trying to get me to drink?” the business woman inquired, glancing to the cup as if it contained a deadly, incurable virus.

“Arsenic.” CPO Day answered without hesitation, causing Cordelia’s head to snap upwards to where the girl was standing, an expression of pure shock etched into her fine features and Misty had to fight the urge to let loose a chuckle, “It’s just coffee, I’m trying to keep you alive, poisoning you _might_ just end my career,” the bodyguard mused with a hint of a smile rendering her lips.

“Just coffee? How about you get me a venti iced skinny hazelnut macchiato, sugar-free syrup, extra shot, light ice, no whip, deal?” Foxx exclaimed with a sickening-sweet smile that she always seemed to use when trying to get things that she wanted; a smile that faded gradually when observing Day’s incredulous glance of disbelief.

Misty’s brow raised skyward as she studied the older woman, trying to tell if she was being serious, “I’m ya bodyguard not ya damn scullery maid,”

“And? I'd like a low-fat yogurt as well,” Cordelia decided, her fake smile tugging effortlessly on her lips as if she had forgotten that the role of a bodyguard was to keep her safe, not running errands to the closest Starbucks just to satisfy her expensive appetite.

Misty wasn’t playing along, crouching down with her arms crossed on top of the desk, wearing an equally false smile upon her own sweet lips as she leant her head closer, “Where would ya like it?” Despite the sarcastic remark and unused back-chat, Cordelia Foxx found a soft smirk etching into her features.

A short while had passed since that moment and the business woman had tried exceptionally hard to get her work done, reading and rereading the same long article over and over with little information actually seeping into her mind. Occasionally, she could hear her bodyguards footsteps pacing in front of the door, pausing, and resuming again as the Cajun changed direction. Before long, it had grown too much, Cordelia couldn’t concentrate and Misty wouldn’t stop walking.

 “I watched you chatting up my receptionist,” she began in forced conversation with a smirk as she capped her pen and leant back in her chair, glancing up to the girl who had finally stood still. The curly-blonde frowned gently, the confusion apparent on her pretty little face as she dared to come closer to the woman’s desk.

“What?” her bodyguard exclaimed, blinking several times as she tried to make sense of the previous statement and Cordelia found herself enjoying watching the officer so utterly confused. But then… How could she not know? Kaylee was hardly subtle. The older blonde felt the anger spark to life inside of her, a flame that instantly grew by Misty’s obliviousness.

“Don’t play dumb with me Miss Day. She had her hands in your hair!” Foxx’s voice rose in tremendous volume, ensuring that the girl flinched with the startling shouting. The Cajun opened her mouth to say something, but for a second her words failed her, simply watching as the other stared with daggers.

Misty shook her head softly from side to side, “That? Oh my god that wasn’t anythin’! She’s probably jus’ fascinated.” Cordelia could swear she felt herself turning red, not even pausing to ask herself why she cared. Now she was standing up for the talentless redhead?

“She’s fascinated by anyone stupid enough to keep her bed warm on a night!” She declared, rising quickly from her seat and leant forward as her palms connected with her desk with enough force for the young receptionist to hear from the lobby.

Day inhaled deeply, her cerulean gaze narrowing at the older woman… Who was she to insult anyone and everyone? “Are ya calling me stupid?” The girl inquired harshly, her own tone becoming gradually louder as she bit roughly on her plump bottom lip to prevent it from quavering, whether from anger or sudden upset, she didn’t exactly know. By now she was on the other side of the woman’s desk, gripping the edge like a lifeline.

“Well if you need a clarification then yes,” Cordelia stated immediately, their faces just inches apart. If looks could kill then in that second both women would probably drop dead from the intensity of unadulterated loathing.

“What _is_ ya problem?” Misty exclaimed, her breathing coming quicker and deeper as her bright blue eyes never left the hard, brown eyes that just stared back.

With gritted teeth and a scornful glare, Cordelia replied with a tone harsher than sharp glass, “My problem is, I don't like you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later, when the golden sun was just setting upon an orange canvas sky, Cordelia surrounded herself with the mountains of paperwork and charges that she hadn’t managed to get through earlier that day. She sat in the very middle of her cream, chic couch with her legs tucked up by her side; dark reading glasses slowly sliding down her nose, and endless piles of paper situating in every available space within arm’s reach. With the sweet silence that had been blissfully bestowed upon her, it was more than easy to forget Day was sat in the corner of the room, sitting as still as a granite gargoyle and looking as miserable as a storm cloud.

Misty hadn’t said a word since their violent dispute earlier (not that Foxx minded), and she continued to endure her task of protecting the woman, whilst staring in an over-attentive manner at the clock as its pendulum swung back and forth. It was torture, pure torture the way that fate messed with her curls. Why did she have to protect the woman that she would be more than happy to strangle more times than not?

After all, any day spent without wanting to throttle Cordelia was enough for her to be made into a saint.

Day tapped her foot rhythmically to the swinging beat of the pendulum, its quiet ticking the only comfort that she could receive in the swallowing silence that engulfed the room. It was so unbearably soundless that the unexpected knock that resonated off the front door caused both women to jump, startled by the loud banging.

Dark chocolate snapped to ocean blue, both gazes wide and alert and Misty stood from her allocated chair to answer the door, Cordelia following almost nervously on her heels, after all, Hank wasn’t due back for another week or two. The curly-blonde unlocked the front door, creaking it open before squealing and throwing the door back so it swung on the hinges almost hitting the other woman in the face.

On the doorstep stood a lanky, young man, well, who looked just in between man and boy, with messed blonde hair that fell in front of his ears. He wore a warm goofy grin on his wide lips and had soft green eyes that lit up when he saw his best friend answer the door,

“Kyle!” Misty exclaimed, leaping forward giving the guy zero time to prepare for being tackled in what CPO Day called ‘a hug'. She had her arms tight around his neck, as if it were her tradition to strangle the boy every time she saw him, and the officers beam grew tenfold.

It was the first time that Cordelia had seen the wild blonde smile, and really smile. Her grin pulled up to her cheeks, pearly white teeth on show and her face seemed one hundred times brighter than it did when she was sat in the chair occupied by her clock. And not to be... nice or anything, but the Cajun’s smile was captivating.

The boy who must have been Kyle chuckled, his arms almost crushing the girl into his chest as he picked her up a few inches off the floor making the bodyguard laugh even harder, all the while Cordelia watched from her own doorway in mild confusion. _Is this dude her boyfriend?_

Clearing her throat disruptively, the older woman stood with her hands on her hips, jaw clenched slightly and the two broke apart as of Misty remembered her duty, instantly the grin became less ecstatic and more simple. “Oh God, please don’t be hosting an outcast gathering in my house,” Mrs Foxx muttered, glancing the boy up and down, making him shiver in discomfort.

“Shame, jus' about ta do that,” The curly blonde answered weakly. It was the first time the girl had spoken directly to her for the past hours, yet Misty just dragged Kyle around the older woman into the conjoined drawing room, not hesitating to hug her best friend. “What're ya doin' here?” she questioned in amazement, beaming again.

“Yes, what are you doing here?” Cordelia repeated having swung her door shut only to follow the party into the other room with her arms folded in obvious displeasure as she glanced between her bodyguard and the other who were both situated in her house… what was going on?

“First of all, how's everything going, Mist?” Kyle inquired smoothly, completely ignoring the older woman whilst the girl glanced up with salty tears brimming in her bright blue eyes as if she wanted to break down and confess, but she couldn’t.

“Piece of cake,” Misty’s voice was threatening to crack under the added weight of having to lie to her only friend and the Cajun shivered gently in his arms. Mrs Foxx frowned ever so slightly, her angled hip resting against the wooden door frame as she observed the situation. Day looked as if she was honestly going to cry.

“It’s okay M,” The boy assured, ruffling her curly hair gently like the wild blonde was his little sister that only he could torment in such ways. When Misty finally glanced back up, a firmer smile finding its way upon her semi-parted lips, her only friend was grinning confidently back down at her, “Anyway, you left these at the Bureau,” Without a second to spare, Kyle fished a small orange bottle out of his black jeans pocket, and the CPO was even quicker to snatch at it.

By now, Cordelia Foxx had given up trying to ask questions, though her dark eyes narrowed to the obviously prescribed medication, noting that the thing was only half-full.

“Oh God, Kyle! Thank you!” Misty exclaimed, throwing her arms around her best friend yet again with her eyes screwed up tightly as she remained clung to the boy. Perhaps she was hoping he would just walk out with her glued to his chest?

Growing unnerved by all the embraces and information that she had been neglected to receive, Cordelia felt her frown darkening, her gaze unwavering from the bottle of pills securely treasured in her bodyguard’s grip. “What are those?” Foxx demanded, causing both to take a step back and blink softly, neither too anxious to answer her.

“I’ll show myself out,” Kyle assured the wild blonde who was on the verge of protesting, the wide-eyes look in her eyes could only remind Cordelia of a deer caught in the headlights of a rapidly approaching van. The girl remained rooted to the very spot, watching as her best friend left, closing the door softly behind him, only for the older woman to interrogate her the second the lock clicked in place.

“What are they, Day?” she commanded taking several strides closer towards the younger blonde who had now gripped the tube to her chest as if whatever it contained was precious. Misty shook her head desperately from side to side, avoiding the womans question and her approach, circling around her to take the stairs two at a time. She didn’t need to look to know that Cordelia was perusing her, the heavy falling of her heels upon every step was enough to give it away.

“None of ya goddamn business!” The officer declared, her tone thick with emotion that she didn’t want and angrily, the Cajun tried to push it all away as she pulled herself up the stairs with the aid of the curling banister.

“Oh my God... are you an addict?” The business woman accused, reaching the landing and quickening her pace as the girl stormed off, though she seemed much more upset than angry… but Mrs Foxx wasn’t all too good at reading between the lines.

Again, Day shook her head urgently, golden curls almost flying as the single syllable tore past her lips, “No!”

“Then what's in the damn vial?” Cordelia ordered, her voice raising as she watched the Cajun turn into her borrowed room that was situated right next to her own. Her cheeks were incredibly warm and for a split second the woman realised that she had been holding her breath. Inhale. Exhale… exhale goddammit!

Misty spun around with the fierceness of a lion and the older woman finally caught a glimpse of her face. Her cheeks revealed obvious silver tracks, tell-tale tear marks that slid all the way down; her chest was heaving due to the emotional agony; her eyes were red and watery and crystal tears still fell in turn as the girl raised her voice, her tone finally breaking under the stressful weight. “Antidepressants, okay!?”

With that, Day slammed shut her bedroom door with every intention of letting it bang loudly, leaving the older blonde standing in the hall, very, very confused and just a little bit deaf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to actually move this along next chapter! Please leave a Comment or Kudos if you are enjoying this, it would mean so much if you did!


	5. Truce Sandwich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do apologise for the late update, so many things just aren't going right at the moment, truthfully I feel mentally and physically awful and that's no way to write stories. This chapter is late because of that reason, so sorry and I'll try to update again soon.  
> 

_“This was practically a changing point for us both, a milestone... I wouldn’t go as far to say that we bonded, I mean, Day’s a pain, a beautiful, goddamn pain, but we managed, and I think that for both of us, not tearing out each other’s throat was an improvement in the situation.” ~Cordelia Foxx_

* * *

* * *

 

Cordelia Foxx, head of Robichaux Company, Queen of sarcasm and Empress of wardrobes had never felt more confused than she did at that very second as she paced in her room with long, determined strides. Her route mapped out from her bed, to her vanity desk; across to her walk-in closet, past her en suite and to the bookshelves and from there, crossing the room back to her bed for the endless web to continue all over again.

She had never experienced her heart break in the way that she felt it do when she had seen tears staining Misty's pretty porcelain face, and despite how much her head yearned for her to deny the fact, Cordelia couldn't argue with the hurt that resided in her own chest, just knowing that she was responsible for cries that ever so quietly could be heard from the room next to her own.

It had been almost obvious that the business woman had loathed her bodyguard with every fibre of her being, but it was never Days’ fault. Cordelia hated the way the girl and so free and easy-going in a way she just didn't know how to act... What she would give to not have to be so uptight; but what was wistful thinking when her mother and her corporation had her on strings? She hated the way Day could almost find good in everything, the way anything could distract her. She hated how good the girl was and how determined she seemed to do her job, as if she lived for her line of work.

She hated most of all, that CPO Day was so strong, so good and yet so light and cool; who ever gave the golden-haired woman the right to be perfect? But most of all, it was jealousy, and unadmitted admiration which fuelled the rivalry that kept Mrs Foxx seething with resentment. For whereas Misty was calm and collected, Cordelia was always riled, demanding of her workers and had expectations higher than the empire state building. She had, after all, learnt from her mother, and of course the knowledge had passed on that the best way to get what you want was to take it with a very strong hand.

But still, she couldn’t help it, the image flashed across her mind every time the older woman closed her eyes, Day spinning around with tears streaming down her cheeks. With that one look, the Cajun could have brought the nation to its knees with pity. Those haunting blue eyes that seemed all the more wider, glossed painfully over with swimming tears and a clouded gaze as one by one her sorrowfully beautiful tears escaped and left a bittersweet trail of silver staining alabaster skin.

How could anyone have such blue eyes?

How could anyone break someone’s heart, just with one tear-filled glance? And Cordelia was convinced that she didn’t even have a heart, why now was she suddenly filled with regret and remorse? If at work she passed some snivelling girl crying in the hall, Foxx would simply have turned up her nose and continued, for who’s tears were worth her time? But something was different about Misty… her tears were rare and oh-so precious, like diamonds.

Diamonds falling from star-filled blue eyes.

What had gotten into her? Was it the unmistakable (semi-desirable) chemistry that had ruptured between their fighting and loathing? Perhaps she was taken aback by her own thoughts, it had been her own fault for checking out a hot woman in a suit, was that a crime? What was it about Little Miss Day that affected the stone-cold business woman so?

Cordelia finally sat on the edge of her bed, joining her hands together with fingers entwined and resting in her lap as the woman took slight distraction from counting her calm breaths.

One… Two... Three… Four… Five… Six…

 

* * *

 

 

“Seven, eight, nine, ten” Misty Day whispered feverishly as she alternated from broken sniffling to calm breathing. Her ethereal fingertip trailed up and down her pale forearm to scars that had long since healed, leaving nothing but memorable lines where she had bled months, years ago. She counted each scar in the order that she had cut them, and remembered how she had overcame each trouble, how finally her broken life had healed just like her broken skin, and each circumstance had made her stronger in a way.

“Eleven,” her soft digit trailed to a darker line right at the top of her wrist, that cluster had been the worst. It had been due to one of her cases, and she had failed it to some degree, Day had never truly gotten over that, but she shook the thought away and brought her finger back up her arm to the last marks she had made six and four months ago. “Twelve, thirteen” Her touch lingered upon her tender skin, tracing the mark with some form of affection.

The last time she had cut herself, Misty was in much worse pain than she was in now, she was curled up in the corner of her dormitory at the Bureau, shaking and sweating and crying. Looking back on herself then, she was almost ashamed of the way she had been so wrecked and weak, but now she was here… and here was much more of an improvement to where she had been.

Like her momma used to say, every cloud has a silver lining.

Even if her silver lining came with black Louboutins and a godawful attitude.

Officer Day jumped physically when a clear knock sounded from the door, announcing that Cordelia was out in the hall, probably coming to insinuate another argument that she really didn’t want to be dealing with at that very moment. Taking a deep breath or preparation, Misty rolled down her blouse sleeve, staring at the wooden frame just as the door handle twisted, and the shorter blonde entered the room.

She had changed from her smart uniform and was now clad in posh black trousers with a rich purple chemise comfortably hugging her stomach, her silky golden tresses braided stylishly across one shoulder. Yet there was no common sneer on her lips and her eyes held no smug gleam in her darkened, chocolate eyes. In that moment, Cordelia seemed oddly sincere.

“You’re supposed to be protecting me… I figured you weren’t going to leave the room, so I guess I’m coming in,” Misty couldn’t old eye contact with the older woman, almost like an animal that dare not stare at the alpha in fear of mistakenly challenging her to some life-threatening duel. Instead, her sweet blue gaze fell down to the orange tube of pills cradled in her hands, her gun and ID badge lay discarded to her side. Foxx stared at the same spot before clearing her throat, “You hadn’t come down to eat, and I reckoned you’d be hungry. Sandwich?”

Officer Day glanced up in confusion, unsure if she had heard the other woman correctly. _Sandwich?_

Sure enough, Cordelia was holding a plate out to the girl with a sandwich that the Cajun had trouble believing the business woman had prepared herself. “Oh, so _now_ you care?” The curly-blonde snapped, almost frustrated that she didn’t know Cordelia’s angle on this. Surely she wasn’t making her a snack out of the pure goodness of her heart. The idea was almost laughable.

“Misty!” The shorter woman reprimanded in a high tone, almost shocked that the bodyguard was still defending herself even now when Mrs Foxx was unarmed and peaceful. Still she sauntered over to the bed where Day was sitting cross-legged, staring down at her lap as if she preferred not to acknowledge Delia’s existence. Warily, she set the plate on top of the covers, “I never meant to make you cry,”

For a moment, Misty didn’t respond, saying nothing, doing nothing, not even blink, Cordelia didn’t even see the girl really breath. But finally, the Cajun sighed, electing not to argue despite her burning passion to deny the fact she had been weak… she had _cried_ for God’s sake. “So, what’s this… a kind of truce sandwich?” she inquired closely as if she was judging Cordelia’s Sandwich making skills.

The corners of the older blonde’s lips dared to tug slightly into an ever so small grin, deciding that the both of them could do with a break of heavy fighting and sarcasm, besides, if Misty started crying again, Cordelia would get emotional and probably comfort-eat, which was a huge problem for the woman who apparently couldn’t afford the additional calories. “Yeah, a truce sandwich,”

“Okay, I’ll eat this, but just because I’m hungry not because I’ve forgiven you,” CPO Day stated with a strain in her voice, the raw sentiment still coating her tone as she reached out for the plate. Cordelia pushed the dish closer before perching herself atop the covers, shuffling with uncomfortable nervousness.

This was the most civil that they had been since meeting.

“I can deal with that,” Mrs Foxx assured with a confidence that didn’t burst at her seams this time in abrupt arrogance, but she seemed calm… almost playful in a way.

Misty looked mildly amused at this, her eyes flickering upwards to hold the chestnut brown gaze that seemed softened upon her, and tentatively, the bodyguard took a bite of the sandwich, half wondering if this was Cordelia planning to poison her directly. After chewing and swallowing and (Thankfully) not dying in the process, the wild blonde began, “So, ya can dish it out…”

“And so can you, CPO Day let’s not kid ourselves here.” The older woman was quick to respond with a pushed smirk, tucking her legs up by her side as she observed the girl for a moment.

The Cajuns lips curled but she said nothing, unable to help herself as she concentrated more on the food, only now realizing how hungry she had actually been. How did Cordelia Foxx know that she needed to eat before _she_ had?

“You know,” The shorter blonde began carefully, “I didn’t know why I acted the way that I did, I always like to know what my workers are doing, taking… and I’m not used to people, like you” she was on about the pills, the most recent action, but what about before then? What about leaving her on the roadside? What about calling her stupid? And people _like her_? What did that mean? Either way, this was a push in the right direction and Day wasn’t about to complain.

Misty bit softly on her lip, a little flash of embarrassment illuminating her features as she set the small remainder of her sandwich back on the plate. “I may have overreacted… I jus’ ain’t used ta people demanding answers the way that ya do… thank ya for the truce sandwich, though” Never in a million years did the Cajun expect to hear herself thank the older woman.

Awkward silence settled between them as Misty finished eating, setting the plate aside.

"Why are you here Day, when you could be with your friends?"

The curly blonde shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, also struggling to maintain conversation. “I don't have any,” Mrs Foxx had to bite her tongue to physically refrain from letting slip a rude sarcastic comment, that certainly wouldn’t have helped. Instead she opted for another question.

“What about the guy at the door?”

“Kyle? He’s my previous work partner, the only person at the bureau who likes me.” Day spoke, and for some reason, Cordelia found it hard to believe, knowing that is was probably her bodyguard’s undeniable attractive appearance that was getting to her again.

 “So, what’s it like, your work?” _Wow Cordelia, another question, you’re a human, not an interrogator!_ The woman chided to herself. Her mother would have reprimanded her incapability of communication then, and probably would have berated her daughter had she known she was talking to herself in her head.

Misty shook her head gently, golden curls framing her gorgeous, unblemished face as her tresses fell against her porcelain cheeks, “I don’t want ta talk ‘bout it,”

“Okay,” Cordelia inhaled, rather awkward and almost regretting the idea of being civil. She should have left the sandwich in the hall, knocked, and ran away like she was getting chased by a leopard. But that would have been cowardice. “What about your family?” she prompted, only to receive a faster head shake in response, almost desperate to avoid the topic entirely, “God, what are we supposed to talk about if you don’t even want to talk!” Cordelia criticised loudly causing the girl to flinch “… sorry,”

 _Oh Lordy, did **the** Cordelia Foxx just apologise **to me?**_ Misty stared with wide eyes almost unable to believe it. Finally, the officer found her voice.

“We can talk about you?” she suggested, pushing her thick, unruly curls back over her shoulders as she glanced across to the other woman with mild interest. It was almost as if Cordelia was any other client, easy, sweet and not a total asshole with a Grade A attitude problem. It was like she was a different person… Misty liked it.

Mrs Foxx frowned, obviously unused to being on the receiving end of the questions. “What about me?” she wondered, her palms already starting to sweat lightly with the new setting. In all her life, she had only ever answered to one person.

“Well, your mother?” CPO Day prompted, sitting back against the pillows and rolled onto her side so now she was facing the other woman and Cordelia did the same.

“We didn't always get along. As a child she terrified me, and I would step on every crack in the pavement in hope pure superstition would kill her. She made me feel like a disappointment, just because at the time I was of no use to her… I only became ‘mommy’s-little-girl’ when she saw how well I could run the company, she showered me with the praise I had always desired as a girl,” After she had finished speaking, she glanced over to see the Cajun was wholeheartedly watching her with star-crafted blue eyes and paying full attention.

“She wants ya ta be safe, I’d say there’s more ta your relationship than just ya work,” Misty finally commented, and Mrs Foxx thought it over… All this time she had been blaming her mother for buying her a stalker, she had never really thought how much Fiona had to have cared to hire her a personal bodyguard… and the best one at that.

“I-I suppose you’re right,” the woman stuttered, letting a sweet minute pass before she glanced around the room trying to find inspiration for something to talk about that didn’t involve a topic too sore for the Cajuns conversation. Finally, her chocolate gaze landed to the possessions resting on the bedsheet’s. Her pills, badge and gun.

 “Have you ever killed anyone with that thing?” she inquired, nodding directed to the potential weapon. A sudden wave of adorning apprehension washed over Day, her deep eyes widening and her breath caught in the back of her throat before she elected to nod slowly.

_Misty held the car door open for the woman she had been paid to protect, glancing around quickly with all too heightened nerves, after all, it was a sketchy area in town and the Cajun was undoubtedly on edge. She shut the door more aggressively than intended and circled the car to get into the driver’s seat, but it was then that she saw him across the road._

_A tall man big man with overgrown dirty ashen blonde hair, an unshaven face and piercing eyes, screaming and shouting. Misty felt her heart race, all her training wasn’t going to go down the drain now. She had someone to protect. The man was crossing the road, his light brown jacket whipping in the wind whilst he roared with anger. His words were all bunched together, and less distinguishable by the volume, though Day didn’t need to hear his words as he approached quicker with blazing fury in his eyes and with little thought, Misty raised the gun in her hands, not even looking away as she shot._

_She didn’t even flinch all the while the bullet had left its shell with an extremely loud bang, and everything else had fallen silent around her. She didn’t feel remorse when his food stained shirt was now stained with crimson blood, a red river that soaked his body._

_Misty didn’t feel anything as she stared down at the body of the man she had shot._

CPO Day shuddered almost violently, refusing to even look at the gun that laid innocently on the bed sheets. “It-It was an accident. It was my first real case all on my own. He came too close ta my client an’ I was so darn scared, so angry at the same time. It was s’posed ta be a warning shot, a graze in a non-vital area an’ only in extreme circumstances, but I shot him. I shot him straight through the chest.” The officer admitted, looking close to being reduced to another round of tears. She couldn’t stop staring the day she had done it, but now she could never stop seeing it in her mind’s eye.

“Is that why you take those?” Cordelia asked quietly as she pointed to the pills that had subconsciously found their way back into Misty's hand.

“Yeah... Mostly,” The girl whispered, yet on the hand that was tucked by her side, her fingers crossed together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of this may be a little confusing, but I promise not a thing will be left unresolved by the end.


	6. Two Fries or not Two Fries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe this chapter to Marrygohome, for without whom, this story would not have been updated at any time soon. Thank you, lil angel.

**_“_ ** _Sometimes I look back ta those moments, an’ wonder how in the hell we managed ta get ta where we are now, from all the arguments an’ name callin’. Y’know, thinking on it, we were jus’ like children fightin’ in a playground, an’ now, we kinda grew up, put all the hatred behind us. Like E.E Cummings said, ‘It takes courage ta grow up an’ be who ya really are’, I guess we were both jus’ getting a little braver,” ~Misty Day_

* * *

* * *

 

Cordelia couldn’t help but stare longingly at the way CPO Day slowly tugged off her jacket, standing now in front of the bed and let the attire puddle on the floor. It was agonizing the way she leisurely unbuttoned her crisp, white blouse from top to bottom revealing her marble unblemished skin in all its dignified glory. The curly blonde soon disregarded the shirt, letting it join her jacket on the floor, left in her black laced bra and trousers, her knees now on the mattress as she crawled her way to the older woman.

Foxx could feel her breath catch at the back of her throat as she took Misty’s face in both her soft hands, crashing her lips upon the girls harshly without the need to breath. Their tongues battled for dominance and hands, suddenly desperate, were ripping and pulling at excess clothing. The shorter blonde moaned as her bodyguard attached her lips to the side of her neck, sucking pleasantly and she could feel the heat rushing to her core in a mere instant.

 Cordelia woke up in her room with heavy, laboured breaths and fiery electricity pulsing through her veins as she sat upright, surrounded by her bed covers and alone, confused as to why she was so uncomfortably aroused at such a time of morning. The sun was leaking like a golden waterfall through her curtains, alerting the woman that it was an ordinary time to be awake. Ordinary to be awake, yes, ordinary to be turned on by… by a dream, and of her bodyguard at that? No, that was not ordinary whatsoever.

She shook her head pushing back the hot covers that pooled delicately around her waist, and as the woman moved to sit on the edge of her bed, clad only in her thin, silken peach nightgown, she was made aware of the slick, heated wetness present between her thighs in that moment.

Embarrassment and shock flooded through the flustered woman, her face painted a rich shade of fuchsia as Cordelia began to understand what had happened.

She had just had a wet dream about CPO Day, “Shit,”

 

It was a day away from the office, a whole beautiful day, free and all to herself, well, and her bodyguard of course, but there was no rush to get on with the morning. So Cordelia took her own sweet time venturing through her walk-in closet like it was the Amazon rainforest, exploring through Prada, Armani, Louis Vuitton and Chanel like a Queen. Half an hour later, she descended her stairs wearing a fitting deep blue dress by Oscar de la Renta, all previous occurrences, dreams included, pushed to the very back of her mind where she could hopefully forget them and go about her day in peace.

Day was stood quietly in the spacious kitchen, leaning against the counter in yet again another suit, grey this time, but all the same, causing Cordelia to swallow a whine and resist the urge turn around and head back upstairs until she had managed to control herself. The younger woman was staring out of the large kitchen window, to the beautiful garden with a look of awe gracing her elegant features. Her golden locks were draped over one shoulder exposing the nape of her milky-white neck contrasting against the ebony collar of her jacket.

Breathe Cordelia.

“I see you found my garden,” The older woman announced, almost delighting in the way she made the Cajun jump slightly, blushing a little bit as she stepped away from the sink and regaining her stiff posture. However, a sweet, innocent smile hinted upon her colourless lips as star-lit blue eyes gazed back to the outside as if indulging in a guilty pleasure just by admiring the scenery.

“That’s a garden? Looks more like a paradise if ya ask me,” Misty replied breathlessly looking back to the older woman with a light in her eyes that Cordelia had never seen before, her whole face lit up and the other had trouble looking anywhere else as she sauntered into the kitchen, standing two feet away from her bodyguard and sharing in the view from her window.

But she was used to the greenery outside, all the hanging and climbing foliage in intricate pattern, flowers in full bloom and various colours decorating her garden, to her it was hardly spectacular after all, she saw it every day, but to Officer Day it was obviously a wonder. For a second they stood like that, side by side, silent and looking out the window with similar interests, but suddenly the younger blonde gasped, as if just remembering something and she leant across the counter to grab a cup recognizable as a Starbucks canteen.

 “One venti iced skinny hazelnut macchiato, sugar-free syrup, extra shot, light ice, no whip,” Misty recited quickly, holding out the beverage to the other whose face was blank of emotion, only sheer surprise registering in deep chocolate eyes.

“Suck up,” Cordelia muttered with a gentle smirk having her smooth features as she accepted the coffee and immediately raised the warm cup to her lips. It wasn’t too hot, but conveniently for her, not cold either. Practically perfect. Her brown eyes connected with mesmerizing blue over the rim of the canteen. Her eyes really were full of starlight when they weren’t scowling at her.

“Asshole,” the Cajun whispered proudly in response, still with a smug smile playing on her face, ignoring as the older woman choked on her coffee and returned her gaze to the garden as if there wasn’t a single thing wrong in the world. Cordelia watched the girl for a mere second, mildly aware of the pain in her nose from her choking and coughing, but if she wasn’t mistaken, she could feel a small hidden smile working its way upon her lips.

 

* * *

 

 

“What are we doin’ today?” the officer inquired resting her elbows on the surface top of the island, central in the large kitchen her gaze following the older woman as she bent to put the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. It had been difficult to get Cordelia to hold her gaze for more than two seconds that morning and the bodyguard couldn’t help but wonder if it was her own fault, not that she had done anything wrong, but yesterday they had talked, they had been civil and had gotten through the evening together… so what was different now?

“Paperwork,” The shorter blonde replied without even looking up from the task at hand. Misty wriggled her nose, obviously not keen with the concept. She didn’t overly fancy the idea of standing in silence watching over a woman who scrawled a pen across a page, that stuff was meant for the office, not for her study desk at home. “Is there a problem, Miss Day?”

All of a sudden, Cordelia’s stare was focused entirely on the Cajun, her attention unwavering from the girl that she questioned with a slight smirk. Misty had been caught by the unsuspected inquiry, and the attention that she had been neglected for so far into the morning, now their gaze just wouldn’t break. Sky blue and chocolate brown interlocked almost intimately.

“N-no, I mean, I ain’t all too fond of ya homework,” the curly blonde stuttered ever so slightly, but it was enough to draw a smug grin upon Mrs Foxx’s lips.

“Well by all means, Close Protection Officer Day, why don’t you organize our time today, I’m sure you have better plans than watching me complete my _homework,_ ” by the tone that Cordelia used to lavishly coat her words, Misty could tell it was a real challenge, the woman was actually daring her, with her hands resting upon her rounded hips. There was an existing mischievous spark that shimmered in those dark eyes, and the bodyguard was rather relieved that there was a spark in her eye and not in her anger.

Acceptingly, the taller blonde leant over the counter, taking Cordelia’s car keys in her grasp before nodding curtly, “Alright then, buckle-up,”

 

Cordelia downright refused to ask her bodyguard where they were going. She had more self-respect than that and besides, she didn’t want to seem too keen or interested. When telling Day that the girl could organize their day, Mrs Foxx wasn’t one hundred percent sure that the wild haired girl would actually do that, though she should have known by now, Misty wasn’t shy, nor one to back down and now… Cordelia sat shotgun in her own car tapping her polished nails against the door handle as she glanced out the window, avoiding eye contact and conversation.

Besides, she knew the city as if she owned it, the woman could probably guess where they were heading, that was until Misty drove them out into the suburbs.

“Okay,” Cordelia Foxx finally relented, turning her head to look at the younger blonde, “I give up, where are we going?” Misty didn’t respond, to which the business woman rolled her eyes, “The silent treatment? Really? You’re going to have to come up with something better than that,” she stated in a huff, glancing out the window for another minute or so, “Well I don’t even want to know the answer that much anyway, it’s probably awful,”

 

Only ten more minutes had dragged with Cordelia whining and complaining in the passenger seat whilst Misty smirked softly to herself, it was like she was in the company of a child, and she didn’t mind children that much. Yet finally, they came to a halt in from of a semi-detached house which did indeed look as if it had seen better days. The paintwork was cracking, slowly flaking away from the exterior and the chimney looked as if it had been knocked down and carelessly been reset like Lego.

“Why are we parked outside a shack?” the shorter woman asked, clearly with an aura of confusion and slight disappointment as she dramatically wound down the window to inspect the building as if a layer off glass was distorting the image.

“That’s a house,” Misty corrected in slight irritation, which of course, went unnoticed whilst she unbuckled her seat belt and finally glanced over to the older blonde.

She couldn’t seem to be able to look away until her bodyguard spoke, finally redirecting her gaze back to the taller blonde, “Looks like Top Cats trash can home,” Cordelia confessed easily, resting back in the seat without any indication of moving soon.

“Let me reiterate,” CPO Day began with her star-lit blue eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly, “That’s _my_ house,”.

 

Inside of Misty’s small house was more redeeming than the out. It was comfortable and cozy without even trying, as if each and every object seeped tranquility. The curtains downstairs were all floor-length royal blue, draping down to a cream carpet that expanded across the whole floor; the furniture was all mustard yellow which brought life and redeeming brightness to the living room; in front of the stone hearth was a red carpet, radiating warmth with the sheer colour.

On every wall were shelves: packed with rows of books; framed certificates for her service; newspaper cuttings and a vase containing pebbles. It was homely inside, an average place that deemed sweet enough to host a family, though dust coated every surface, proving that the house didn’t exactly host anyone.

Mrs Foxx circled the front room with curiosity, after all, she had never really been inside the home of an ordinary living person. Growing up she had lived with her expensive style mother, and had been taught in a private school with other people whose parents were rolling in riches, so none of her friends exactly lived a normal life in a normal house.

She found it beautiful, not a thing was wrong except one… there was not a single photo, no family pictures, no school portraits, no friends or canvases hanging on the wall. There was nothing. Well, Cordelia wasn’t exactly a sentimental woman herself, but even she had framed photographs. She had just taken a mental note to ask the girl about it, when Day’s footsteps where heard descending the stairs and Mrs Foxx whipped around.

She had to concentrate on not dropping her jaw.

Misty had changed her attire, and although Cordelia was more than impressed with the admirable suits, she had never seen the bodyguard dressed so casual. She was now wearing a pair of white-washed ripped jeans exposing just little bits of her pale skin, though it was enough for the older woman to gulp silently. She had paired the bottoms off with a simple grey t-shirt that gave an enticing view of her collar bone. Her dangling golden curls were half tied up and half left down, in a look that only she could pull off effortlessly in Cordelia’s eyes.

“Put these on,” The Cajun grinned as she made her way over to the older woman, another pile of clothes in her grasp and suddenly she was forced out of her trance, shaking her head quickly.

“And look like an average day-to-day person? No thank you,” but all the same, Officer Day pressed her clothes into Cordelia’s hands, pausing there a moment so that the skin of their hands brushed accidentally, yet lingered all too deliberately.

“Ya’d rather look like an average day-ta-day person than a failed candidate for America’s next top model,” Misty spoke, drawing her hands away with a soft smirk and pointed up the stairs with a relaxed gesture. “Go change, if ya don’ like what I got, my wardrobe’s got other things,”

 

Cordelia tested the first step tentatively, the constricting dark blue jeans were comfortable, but she doubted that she could go down the stairs without falling down. She had wriggled into dark jeans, a soft yellow blouse and a pair of black shoes with heels that only came three centimeters off the ground, and after modelling in the mirror for five minutes, Mrs Foxx decided that she liked the outfit.

“I look like a blowfish!” the woman called half way down the stairs, and CPO Day appeared seconds later with an impressed grin. _A very nice blowfish_. The girl was tempted to respond with as she stared up at the woman who was slowly taking the stairs one step at a time. Maybe the skinny jeans were too tight?

“Ya look like a blow _torch_ ,” Misty corrected cocking her head to one side in a sweet daze as Cordelia joined her on the ground, the heels not even helping her height, despite the bodyguard’s flats. She had a small shoulder bag packed with the things from her belt, monitor gun and all.

“Hot?” Foxx teased, _‘and fucking dangerous if turned on and left unattended’_ she added in her head a sly grin forming thickly upon her plump lips at the very words that echoed in the walls of her mind.

“Fiery and have a habit of burning people,” her bodyguard responded quick off the mark, flashing a casual grin, before glancing back around her living room, her gaze resting longer on the bookshelves with an honest smile than anything else.

She only looked back at Cordelia when, “touché,” was muttered by the older woman.

 

* * *

 

 

Cordelia didn’t bother trying to guess where they were heading this time, these poor lands were no longer in her domain. Though she trusted that Day wasn’t going to let her get hurt (Bodyguard?), she didn’t enjoy the helpless feeling of not knowing, as discovered lately. She sat awkwardly in the borrowed clothes, fidgeting in the attire that suited her just fine whilst CPO Day drove her car through a seemingly pleasant town that looked too fake to be real, more like the sweet little community in happy little television programs.

She was half expecting to see Forest Gump strolling down the sidewalk.

Instead of silence in the vehicle this time, the radio was playing to settle the awkwardness, and Cordelia sat back in the chair, watching as the curly-blonde kept her intense blue gaze on the road. She was sure that the girl was humming along to the music, very faintly as if Misty didn’t want Mrs Foxx to hear it.

But she did. And her focused brown gaze settled on her soft pink lips which pursed together softly as the quiet melody was hummed along.

 It wasn’t until Misty shifted the car into park that the older woman decided to look back outside, and for a second, it was more disappointing than her bodyguards house. They were parked right outside a fast-food diner. A woman of her stature never ate in a place that smelt purely of oil and too much salt. She was a business woman for Christ’s sake, not to mention she would look completely out of place with her posh attire and…

 _CPO Day you sly little minx_. “Please tell me you’re here to pick up a wage slip,” she inquired with rude sarcasm, staring from the diner to Misty and back again, with the shock evidently etched into her elegant features. Misty rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, switching off the engine.

“Come on, Miss Cordelia, ya can come in with me or starve in the car,” She listed as options, already knowing that the woman would rather maintain her dignity and reputation and die in that car than dare to be seen in an old American Diner. “Come _on_ ,”

 

After a minute or so of pure coxing, the two were sat opposite each other on the faux red leather furniture, which, according to Cordelia, probably still had grease and germs festering in its seams since it’s opening date in 2005. Now the woman sat rigidly, hands to herself, careful not to touch anything that might infect her with deadly bacteria… Day thought she was overreacting.

Mrs Foxx fidgeted awkwardly, still quite at awe by the fact that she was wearing Misty’s jeans… she was actually wearing jeans herself! The woman couldn’t remember the last time she wore anything of the sort, after all, her family didn’t do ‘casual’. And Misty, boy, did she have a pair of legs hidden beneath plain trousers that hung straight, not molding to her calves like these were. She fidgeted again.

“Quit fussin’, ya look decent,” Day commented, with her hands folded up on the table top, watching as brown eyes flickered up to meet hers, almost shocked that the girl remembered her wording from the time she had seen Misty in a leather jacket on her landing.

“Was that an almost compliment?” She responded in turn, causing her bodyguard to smile slightly, before pulling the menu, (probably stained with soda spillage and gravy) from its holder.

“What d’ya want ta eat?” Misty inquired unfolding the page, oblivious as Cordelia recoiled at the disgust of such a place. It was any rich person’s nightmare. She had standards.

Speaking of standards, “Sea food platter with a dash of paprika.” Foxx replied instantly. It was her favourite dish that she always ordered from LaLauries Palace, a five-star restaurant that charged around twenty-five dollars for a glass of water.

“Fries?” Misty asked, not even glancing up from the menu, that was now set out flat in front of her.

“ _Fries?_ ” the shorter blonde repeated, unsure she had heard correctly. She said the word the way one ordinary person might say: _spiders?_ or _Apocalypse_? Which, thankfully for the both of them, were nowhere in the foreseeable future.

“Yeah, ya want fries with ya cheeseburger?” Misty asked, glancing back up to the other woman with a grin that wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“Oh my god,” Cordelia groaned, tempted to bang her head off the table, and would have too if it wasn’t disgustingly greasy. What did they wash these things with anyway? Toilet water? “Why are we doing this?” the woman inquired, almost pleading for an explanation to this torture.

“Not ta be rude, but ya so darn uptight, thought ya might like to escape all the expectations for a day, besides, ya might even learn how ta be a normal person,” Misty joked slightly and Cordelia wished she could get that on a recording, ‘CPO Day makes a joke', and replay it whenever she thought something to be impossible. But it was then that Foxx actually thought about those words. Not having to live up to her standards and expectations was a wonder, a luxury almost. She was actually going to thank the Cajun, but then the waitress came to take their order, and all thoughts of gratitude vanished into thin air.

 

Five minutes later, the old brunette returned with two plates with the same order, a cheeseburger with a side of fries and the dishes were set in front of them both. Misty was beyond thankful that the waitress didn’t see Cordelia’s fake gag, her features turning sour at the pure idea of digesting cheap diner food.

 “May I present to ya, the humble cheeseburger,” Officer Day announced, finding no problem in picking up the burger with her hands. Mrs Foxx looked paralyzed with grief and fear at the very notion.

“You want me to touch that… with my fingers? Does this place not know what cutlery is?” she asked astonished, still refusing to have her hands anywhere else than safely clasped together in her lap. Misty’s bright blue gaze trained directly on her and she didn’t need to look up to feel the stare boring into her mind.

“Miss Cordelia, ya do not eat a cheeseburger with a knife an’ fork, jus’ pick it up,” The girl demonstrated, causing Cordelia to wince slightly. “Ya so damn proud, ya not the bloody Queen, ya human, like me, like him over there, like that waitress, ya human jus’ like ya mother, like Bonnie Tyler an’ Stevie Nicks… an’ ya’ve never lived till ya’ve tried a cheeseburger,” Day explained, blinking softly as she sat opposite the older woman, waiting.

The shorter blonde sighed, mentally preparing herself for the terror to come, her bodyguards speech was hardly promotional, but still, there was truth behind those words, even if she didn’t want to admit it. With a forced groan, Foxx gingerly lifted the burger from her plate, looking to the girl for confirmation that this was okay, as if she was holding a baby, not her lunch. “Ew,”

“Oh bravo!” Misty cheered, even clapping a little, and the other woman narrowed her eyes, unable to tell if the Cajun was being sarcastic or not… she probably was.

“This is 20% meat, 30% fat and 50% grease,” Cordelia estimated statistically, eyeing the cheeseburger with such a grimace on her features that it made Day wonder if she had ever eaten something that wasn’t from a posh restaurant. Still she watched as the woman took a tiny tentative bite, trying not to use any part of her hands beside her fingertips to hold the thing.

“Sounds like half the people I know.” Misty retorted, biting back a grin and Cordelia almost choked for the second time that day.

“Food shouldn’t be smothered in oil!” Mrs Foxx complained, but that didn’t stop her from taking another bite from the burger, her tongue darting out quickly to capture the taste on her lips.

“No, but ya enjoying it,” the bodyguard commented matter-of-factly, a small smug grin creeping upon her lips.

“It’s oddly satisfying,” Cordelia stated softly, biting back a grin that threatened to consume her lips as she glanced over to the Cajun who smiled back in response. She took another bite of the cheeseburger, and it wasn’t as disgusting as she had dramatically made it out to be, yet her chocolate gaze never faulted from the wild-haired bodyguard who smiled out the window, oblivious to the woman’s stare and also the little smudge of tomato sauce on her chin.

And Cordelia Foxx smiled like she hadn’t for so long.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just posted my fan art for this fic on my brand new twitter.  
> the link is here ---> https://twitter.com/Bfgirl_Nocturne/status/848570926803374080 <\--- For anyone who wants to see fan art (Or even follow a lonely specimen! <3 ) See you next chapter!


	7. One. Two. Three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alert: Cuteness ahead.  
> Please do not read if allergic to adorableness!  
> You have been warned.  
> ~Baby Fangirl

_"I didn’t really understand it myself to be honest… I still don’t,”_

 

 

 _“Don’t understand what, Ms Goode?”_

 _“Just how I felt, in those days, Misty, my bodyguard, she’s not the kind of company I’d find myself willing to keep, she was just, forced to be by my side. But she was there, the whole time, how could I not start getting used to her? The longer she was with me, the more I started paying attention to the woman she was, not just the annoying girl in hot suits that I previously observed her to be,”_

 _“So, she changed you?”_

 _“Yes… and no… Misty helped me improve myself,” ~Cordelia Foxx_

* * *

* * *

 

Misty stood to the side of Cordelia’s large, posh office, her hands folded resolutely behind her as she smiled out to the view… a view fit for a Queen, where she could see as far as the horizon would allow, and the sun bathed her face in a warming golden glow that soothed her skin. CPO Day could see the cars, trucks and yellow cabs all the way below, looking more like insects racing in line from where she watched, eighty-five floors up… it was rather nauseating after looking down for so long, but stunning all the same.

It really was a beautiful view, and the officer could get an equally beautiful view facing the opposite direction.

The bodyguard slowly turned on her heel, facing Cordelia Foxx who was sat occupied in front of her computer, obviously working hard. Her brows were pinched slightly together in deep concentration, intense dark eyes boring into the screen as the woman chewed distractedly on her plump, bottom lip while she worked. The shorter blonde slowly leant forward in her chair; long, thin fingers practically dancing across the keyboard faster than lightning.

The Cajun focused her calm blue gaze upon the business woman’s lips… the way that they pulled softly into the faintest of grins when she had finished a particular point and those dark eyes quickly scanned what she had just written before hastily continuing; Misty was intrigued by the way Cordelia’s lips pursed together when something didn’t fully add up and she would aggressively tap the backspace; she also watched when the older blonde took her bottom lip between her straight-lined teeth, it was then that the other couldn’t exactly breath properly, the air not even reaching her lungs. Despite the cliché, it was as if her breath had literally been taken away.

Mrs Foxx leant back in her chair, flexing her fingers that were starting to ache from a whole morning of work, and she sighed for a second before lifting her gaze to her bodyguard. Misty let a little smile entertain her lips as their eyes met, rather friendly in comparison to the previous times. For the first four days, Cordelia’s gaze held loathing and anger, sometimes she wouldn’t even look at her; three days after that, the older woman lost the sharp hint in her glare, and an understanding mutual glance took over. Now… she seemed to look at the Cajun with an expression Misty couldn’t fully comprehend.

Still, the girl enjoyed watching the other smile ever so slightly, like she was actually happy. Day wanted Cordelia to be happy, despite everything that had happened between them.

“Everything alright over there?” the business woman inquired as she rest her elbows on the desk, still maintaining eye contact with her bodyguard as her natural smile came more easily.

Misty glanced around the area where she was standing, as if making sure that every little thing was in order, before she glanced back to Mrs Foxx with a grin and a curt nod, “All’s swell over here, everythin’ okay over there?” The Cajun bit back a laugh as Cordelia mirrored her previous actions and smiled a little wider afterwards.

“Everything is fine on this side of the three meters that parts us,” the woman chuckled genuinely and CPO Day practically froze in shock. She had never heard Cordelia laugh before, but damn, was it the sweetest sound she had heard. No bell or melody could ever compare to the addictive ringing of the others laughter.

“Hey, it’s a long three meters!” the bodyguard exclaimed, her hands resting on her belt as she strode over in three long strides so that she was now standing just beside Mrs Foxx, glancing to her computer screen with mild interest. “How’s ya work goin’?”

Cordelia sighed in a heavy exhale, looking back to her document with minor distain as if looking for the words to voice, “Let’s just say if I had to save either my work or a dung beetle from a blazing fire… I’d choose the dung beetle,” the quip brought a chuckle from deep within the Cajun as she leant forward, her arms resting on the back of the womans chair.

“Me too,” Misty admitted with a relaxed grin as the business woman glanced over her shoulder to return the smile. Dark eyes suddenly lit up as she remembered something and spun back around to her computer, clicking off links and confusing databases that the bodyguard didn’t even want to get her head around, before pulling up her work emails, searching for one in particular.

“I forgot to mention…” Cordelia began, opening the email and skimmed quickly through the details, “There’s going to be an annual office anniversary celebration. It’s a formal party in the grand hall, but it’s a jubilee this year. Twenty-five years to be exact. Which means gowns, suits, dancing, buffets, unnecessary boring chit-chat. Attendance is mandatory for me, I suppose. But I do get to bring a plus one… usually I bring Hank?” the shorter blonde prompted, not exactly sure of how to get out the question that she had in her head.

“And…ya want ta take me?” Misty asked in pure disbelief, blue eyes wide as the shock registered in her mind. The fact that Cordelia _wanted_ her there was one thing… the fact that Cordelia wanted _her_ there was another. The curly-haired girl opened and closed her mouth several times, unsure exactly how to respond, no words coming to her aid,

“Yes,” the woman laughed again at Day’s reaction, the mere sound rendering the Cajun speechless, “So…you’ll be there with me as a guest, not a bodyguard, which means you get to wear a dress,” CPO Day gasped softly, still unable to believe what she was hearing. She shook her head with playful desperation and mock fear.

“Take Hank! Take Hank!” The two women fell into harmonized laughter and Misty couldn’t hold back the bright smile that graced her lips as Mrs Foxx turned around in her chair to face her bodyguard. The taller blonde noticed how Cordelia seemed so much happier in comparison to the first time she saw her sitting in that chair… she looked younger, almost. The glowing radiance shining in golden rays from her face. There was a light in her chocolate eyes that had only recently come back to life.

How on earth could her life have extinguished such a bright light like that?

“Trust me, I can’t entice him to wear a dress either,” Foxx chuckled softly again, pausing as if realizing for the first time that she was actually laughing, like it was the first time in forever.

Misty spoke again before the silence became awkward, she didn’t want things to go back to the way they were when things were difficult between them, “That’s a real nice offer, Miss Cordelia, but I think it’d be best if I stay as I am.” The Cajun declined, politely, shaking her head softly from side to side.

“Day… don’t you dare tell me that you’re frightened of a room full of _big, scary_ people.” Cordelia exaggerated with a playing pout as she punctuated those words, like she was assuring her pet puppy that fireworks weren’t so bad.

“It’s not that, it’s just… I’ve never learned to dance. Someone taps me on the shoulder and my hand is on my gun. Someone holds my hand and I’m preparing to twist their arm. I’m a natural hazard… A natural hazard that can’t dance.” The wild blonde explained with a twinge of regret. After all, she was a Bodyguard, not a ballet dancer. “Besides, it’s a big event, I’m goin’ ta have ta keep ya safe, don' think I can do that in some puffy dress and pointe shoes”

“Fine, keep me safe from drinking too much alcohol while I’m there. At those kind of parties I’m practically glued to the punchbowl,” Cordelia advised seriously before loosening up once again, “So you’re still doing your job! Be my guest!” the woman was close to pleading.

“I love how ya going all ‘beauty an’ the beast’ on me Delia, but I still can’t dance,” CPO Day concluded finally, letting out a puff of a sigh, blinking in sudden surprise when the shorter blonde stood up and walked around her desk.

“Okay you, bring your two left feet this direction.” Cordelia ordered, but the girl was too confused to uproot her feet from their spot right away. “Day, come… now,” the older woman spoke in a teasing command, waving the bodyguard over with one hand.

“What, why?” Misty questioned bravely, finally shuffling further into the office.

Mrs Foxx glanced up pointedly to her bodyguard, a sly grin forming on her features as she clapped her hands together once. “You’re going to learn how to dance,” she informed confidently, delighted as she watched the officer’s eyes widen to the size of saucers.

“I’m going ta _what?_ ” the taller blonde exclaimed sharply.

“Dance, Day, I believe you know the meaning of the word,” Cordelia spoke, brows raised with a smile on her lips as if she had no problem with the situation.

Misty on the other hand, did. Her lips remained parted slightly as she struggled to come up with a reply that would let her get out of this current predicament. There was no escaping Cordelia, she had figured that out for herself already. “Yes, but-” she began in protest but the business woman cut straight across her.

“Excellent, let’s take it from there.” The shorter blonde chirped approvingly, facing her bodyguard with a smug grin.

“Cordelia!” the Cajun whined, crossing her arms over her chest in a final act of defiance.

Misty held her breath in anticipation, practically terrified of what was to come. To be honest, being a bodyguard was a simple job, protect whoever you’re assigned to, don’t let them get killed, don’t let yourself get killed, voila! Job done! So why was it so different with Cordelia? Why were they going out to diners and dances together? Why were they suddenly so equal? The questions were pushed to the back of the Officers mind as the panic began to settle again. What did she know of dancing?

Not a single thing.

Cordelia had maneuvered them both to the centre of the open office, and was now facing the Cajun whilst Misty fretted over the fact the room was basically all windows. The business woman cleared her throat to capture her bodyguard’s attention, and laughed softly when the girl jumped a little.

 “We’re going to start easy. They always open with a waltz, the steps are simple. One, two, three. I trust you can count to three without too much difficulty, now give me your hands.” Cordelia instructed quickly, glancing to the girl who looked as if a sergeant had just barked orders.

Misty bit her bottom lip, canting her head softly to one side as she observed her feet before speaking again, “There’s no music,”

“For the love of-” the woman groaned, shaking her head softly, “Hands!”

Reluctantly, the girl obeyed, laying her hands in Cordelia’s and the woman guided one of Misty’s hands to the side, the other to rest lightly upon Foxx’s shoulder before her own arm slid around the Cajun’s waist, drawing her closer. The taller blonde tensed immediately.

“For God’s sake Day! You look like you’re stressed about climbing mount Everest! Not just touching my shoulder!” Fiona’s daughter reprimanded, stepping even closer to urge the taller blonde to meet her gaze.

Misty had long given up on the art dancing, resigned that the only grace she possessed came to her when she had a gun in her hand.

“Okay, I’ll lead for now, until you think you can manage, so when I step forward with my left foot you step back with your right, understand?” CPO Day managed a nod of confirmation. “The steps are one, two, three. Now one, t- Misty I said your right foot!” Cordelia exclaimed as the two ended up in a fumble, resulting in the older woman accidentally stepping lightly on Misty’s foot and Misty nearly losing her balance.

“I’m sorry, I told ya! I’m hopeless!” She was just about to pull away from the other’s grasp but the shorter blonde held on to her tighter, forcing those star-lit blue eyes to raise back to meet her gaze.

“I will not have you saying such things, do you hear?” the sincerity witch which Cordelia spoke startled the younger woman, not expecting to hear such words leave her lips that made it sound as if… maybe, she actually cared. But still, Misty nodded in response. “Let’s try again, This time, right foot _back,_ ”.

“One, two, three. One two three. Good!” Mrs Foxx praised slightly as she counted and Misty did her best not to stumble as she stared down at her feet to ensure she didn’t do something wrong.

She could feel Cordelia’s gaze intently watching her, which, to be frank, didn’t help in the slightest as Day felt her heart flutter in her chest at the mere fact. She swallowed hard, trying not to imagine the womans dark eyes watching her now… _Wait, c’mon, one, two, three!_

Misty began counting softly under her breath, gaining confidence when she finally stopped tripping and stumbling over her own boots and Cordelia’s pointed shoes. How the heck is she even doing this in heels?

“That’s great! Do you want to try leading now? For the record, that’s left foot _forward,_ ” the woman announced teasingly, smirking a little when Misty met her gaze with playful narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, one, two, three,” She was truly skeptical, but Cordelia’s brisk encouragement convinced the bodyguard to at least try.

Day rearranged herself so now that her hand was around the other’s waist, a blush immediately highlighting her cheeks at the contact and awkwardly, she kept the touch as light as possible. It was slow at first, as she memorised the leading steps. Her sapphire gaze refused to lower down to stare at the floor this time, but Misty didn’t exactly feel confident enough to look the other in the face just yet, not with her blush. Instead, her eyes drifted down to Cordelia’s collar bone, and the little pendant that hung on a necklace just above the woman’s dipping cleavage.

“My eyes are up here, Misty Day,” Cordelia scolded teasingly, as a protruding smirk painted her lavish pink lips. The bodyguard couldn’t help but feel her stomach tingle at the way her name sounded when the shorter blonde said it.

“I’ll do my best ta remember that,” Misty spoke with such sincerity that the older woman was forced to chuckle again.

 Her heart sped up slightly at the closeness, unused to the circumstance. She could feel Cordelia’s warm, light breathe tickle the skin of her neck, and could smell the scent of her perfume, a sweet yet sharp aroma, like vanilla, lavender yet something quite exotic that Misty just couldn’t name. Foxx’s firm yet gentle strength surprised the bodyguard, as she allowed herself to be led through the first combination of steps, shuffling along dutifully, hardly brave enough to lift her feet from the floor.

They took it nice and slow, each step and each movement was carefully placed and repeated over and over until it felt natural. Cordelia didn't scorn at her bodyguard for stepping on her from time to time but instead laughed and assured the curly-blonde that it didn't hurt.

Misty herself felt a little better with her footing and eventually felt like she could dance like this forever. Having Mrs Foxx that close to her did give the Cajun rushes of sparks but, like she did with most of her feelings, she kept them locked away and out of sight, asking the older woman instead for tips and advice.

God what was she doing? She’s only meant to keep Cordelia safe, that was it. It wasn’t right to be harbouring these emotions.

And before long, Misty Day was leading Cordelia in a waltz in the middle of the office with a grin lighting up her whole face and her heart beating wildly… it was most likely just the exhilaration of dancing. But then she met those dark chocolate eyes that felt warmer somehow, and Day unintentionally memorised the way her iris was a darker brown closer to the pupil; and the way her eyes grew a little lighter when the sun caught them.

“The celebration is in two days time, I think you’ll have this perfected by then,” Cordelia finally spoke up, as she let herself be lead in triadic steps, all the while glancing up to the Cajun’s glowing face.

Misty shook herself from her daze, clearly deep in thought before blinking in slight shock, another grin forming on her soft, marble smooth lips “Ya think so?”

“Sure,” the woman nodded, pausing for a second as she felt the rush course through her veins, feeling her bodyguards arms around her, the beating of her own heart accelerating slightly. The Cajun removed her hand from the other’s waist, but their joined hands remined together of their own accord, like they were friends. “You’ll be almost as good as me!” Cordelia exclaimed, causing Day to let loose a genuine laugh.

“I don’t think I could ever be as good as ya, Miss Cordelia,”


	8. Lamprocapnos Spectabilis (Posies)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise in advance for the hidden pun... I'm really sorry. (It's hidden really well).  
> I hope you're all doing okay, my lovely people! New chapter just for you!

_“I never felt like this for anyone before… I started by thinkin’ ta m’self, perhaps it was just the success of turnin’ hatred into mutual respect, maybe even go as far as ta say friendship. But friends don’t look at me like she did. But I wouldn’ let m’self feel more than that… I was a bodyguard, she was an aristocrat, what more can I say?” ~Misty Day_

 

* * *

* * *

 

Cordelia rolled out of her bed the following morning still as tired as she was when she went to sleep; her eyes all too heavy as she forced them to open and her room slowly came into focus, like she was looking through a dodgy camera.

The woman sauntered across her room to pull open her curtains, noting the sun was brighter and higher than it should be, yet dismissed the sky as she went to change from her nightgown, still rather sleepy. Mrs Foxx hadn’t been able to sleep until the early hours of the morning. Dawn wasn’t long approaching before Cordelia finally fell into a desperate slumber.

She had laid awake in every position, restless and staring at the ceiling more often than closing her eyes. It was thoughts of her bodyguard that kept the sleep away; thoughts of her work, the shootings and infiltration; thoughts of her mother; thoughts of Hank… but somehow, those thoughts always returned to one blonde haired, blue eyed individual.

Cordelia meandered across the room to make her way down stairs, only to jump back a mile when she nearly tripped over the Cajun that sat on the floor outside her bedroom with her legs stretched across the width of the hall.

“Holy fuck Day! You scared me! I know you’re _close_ protection officer, but this is a little _too_ close!” The shorter blonde exclaimed, now fully wide awake with her hand resting upon her chest, soothing her rapidly beating heart from almost standing on the poor girl.

Misty looked up to the other, her wild curls pulled back in a ponytail as a small smile of relief graced her sharp features, “I can’t possibly be too close, Miss Cordelia,” the bodyguard reminded, rolling back the cuffs on her jacket.

The older blonde shook her head like the point was irrelevant, her eyes still wide with shock, “What are you _doing_ down there?” Cordelia Foxx inquired, trying rather hard to get her breathing back to normal, inhaling deeply to regain the breath that she had lost.

 “Just making sure ya still alive,” The girl admitted in response, finally picking herself up off the floor.

Cordelia shook her confusion away, glancing to her bodyguard as side-by-side they walked together down the corridor. “Well I don’t know, you startled me half to death! Of course I’m still alive, why would I be dead?” the woman questioned with a frown tugging gently at her features.

“It’s half past ten, ya don’t usually sleep this late,” Misty shrugged as if the news was normal and only grinned when Cordelia shot her a look of pure disbelief.

“No way,” The woman stated, holding onto the bannister for slight support.

Misty followed the woman down the stairs, unaware that she spent the time in doing so staring at Cordelia’s hips, “What’re we doing today, because as much as I love trippin’ over my own feet I don’t think I want ta spend all hours of the day waltzing,” Cordelia suppressed a soft round of laughter at the girl’s words.

She turned to glance at her bodyguard as she ambled into the kitchen, a warm and inviting smile on her lips. “Well, what do you want to do CPO Day?” the woman questioned with a slight teasing undertone to her voice. Clearly, Misty had already given the enquiry some thought for she answered almost immediately,

“Can we go outside? In ya garden?” Her whole face lit up with hope and contained excitement, waiting on edge for an answer.

“The dirt gets in my hair and under my nails,” the woman complained, just the thought of all that dirt meaning a wash had to occur later, and she couldn’t be bothered with that kind of torture.

“Ain’t ya got gardening gloves?” Misty inquired with a small pout and her head canted to one side gently. With a heavy sigh, Foxx nodded curtly, sitting down at the table tiredly before looking back to the girl. “There’s still my hair,” she excused, but clearly, her bodyguard was having none of it. She pulled the hair tie from her own hair and began running her digits through the woman’s silky tresses, beginning the first stages to a simple braid.

Cordelia refused to admit that she was actually leaning into the ethereal touch with which the Cajun’s long, thin fingers were effortlessly combing through her hair; she pretended that the smallest yet sweetest of smiles didn’t paint her lips at the lush feeling. Cordelia wouldn’t believe that she let loose a gentle sigh of relaxed content, feeling her bodyguard mess around with her hair.

Most of all, Cordelia Foxx was adamant that there was no pink flush rendering her cheeks. No. She wasn’t blushing.

 

Once she was done, Cordelia was red in the face and inspecting her reflection in the polished silverware.

“I’m completely unpresentable,” the older woman fretted in a harsh undertone, tilting her head softly as if the alternate angle would make her look less of a fool, staring at her reflection in a spoon.

“Come on… I didn’t cock it up so much!” Day protested in an immediate whine, running her fingertips over the mostly-neat, honeycomb golden plait she had just finished. It really wasn’t so bad at all. She could’ve done better, but her longing to go outside had made the task a difficult one to concentrate on.

“Your handiwork isn’t the problem,” Foxx sighed, “It’s my face, I’m warm,” she continued scrutinizing her reflection before resting the utensil on the table, “Fine, we’ll go outside!”

And with that, Cordelia unlocked the back door, watching in simple delight as her bodyguard wandered ahead in bewilered awe and amazement. A flagstone path meandered away before her, flanked by mounds of flowering plants, shrubs and trees. Bees and butterflies danced over the budding blooms, and birds twittered and hopped about in the underbrush, taking advantage of the warmth that still lingered for the day.

Hurrying happily ahead, Misty almost skipped up to where the pathway widened into a lovely clearing, surrounded by graceful trees and flowerbeds. In the centre, a fountain splashed merrily, sending sparkles of water up into the air. The air was sweet and mellow, and the slanting sun filtered through the tossing leaves, filling the garden with dappled light. To the right proudly stood the elegant greenhouse and Day tried (and failed) to contain her excitement when Cordelia caught up to her, and opened up the door.

A breath escaped the younger woman as she took in the mere beauty that surrounded her. She shrugged slowly out of her jacket, as the temperature rose several degrees inside the greenhouse and as soon as the garment was hanging off a hook, the Cajun was at the other end of the table, examining each plant and flower.

“Oh, Miss Cordelia! It’s so beautiful!” the girl glanced back up, her wild curls flying softly as she bit her lip, trying to contain the beam that lit up her face.

The older woman couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of her bodyguard so in love with her plants that her heart even skipped a beat or two. Cordelia couldn’t move her feet for a solid minute, quite content at watching the Cajun circle around like a little girl in a room full of toys, not knowing what to play with first… besides, Misty looked really happy, and Foxx wanted to capture that picture in her mind.

“I’m glad you like it,” she spoke softly, almost as if reminding the younger woman that she still existed.

“Like it? I love it! Ya got a whole rainforest growing in here,” she exclaimed, elated and overjoyed.

Together, they moved towards a work station, and anxiously, Misty bounced on her heels, staring in awe as the shorter blonde introduced her to a potted plant.

“Do you know what this is?” Cordelia asked, pointing to the pink flowered plant with many petals all the same colour.

“Course I do,” Misty laughed gently, as if the question was barely a test on her botany knowledge, “That’s a Dahlia,” The Cajun answered almost gleefully, glancing between the woman and the potted plant as Foxx began tending to the potted flower.

Misty couldn’t help but notice the way her featured bore the focused, concentrated stare that she normally had when she was working on something important, it made the girl smile slightly to know how important the garden actually was to Cordelia-perfect-Foxx.

She was peaceful and entirely caught up in her green world, as if she were listening to the sounds of the growing things, the dry whisper of the roots spreading through the earth, the hushed unfurling of new leaves. She continued to work steadily, oblivious to her bodyguards awed stare: mellowing the earth with her gloved hands, then gently coaxing the newly arrived plant into its new home. It seemed as if all the plants and trees in the clearing leaned in towards the woman, drawing from her radiance.

“…crocuses and… you’re not listening, are you?” Cordelia finally glanced back up to the girl, snapping her suddenly from her trance.

Misty blinked, defending herself in an instant. “I am! What about roses?” The Cajun could hardly believe she had let herself get so carried away in the mere sight of the other woman that she had completely zoned out of everything she had been saying.

Cordelia huffed, rolling her dark eyes slowly. “You’re a terrible liar. Prune this for me, would you? Perhaps you won’t get so distracted this time,” a slight smirk formed upon her lips as she pushed a freshly potted geranium in Misty’s direction. The bodyguard, delighted to have something to put her mind to, jumped to the task.

After a while, the Cajun had not only pruned and watered the geranium, she had cut back the overgrowing Delphiniums and tended to the hibiscus’. Finally, Misty stirred and sat up, glancing back over the older woman, unable to recognize the flowers that she was handling, never having seen them before, "So, Delia, why don't ya teach me ‘bout all about these posies that ya planting?"

Cordelia couldn’t hold in a bubble of laughter at the girls plain curiosity. "These are not "posies" my dear Misty, these are lamprocapnos spectabilis". They shared a gaze for a second, the Bodyguards ears slowly turning a shade of red at the endearing term.

"Posies, lamprocapnos spectabilis they all sound the same, no?” Day couldn't resist teasing the other, and all of a sudden, a speck of soil landed on her cheek from where the older woman had flicked it while hosting a smug smirk.

“No,” Cordelia mused with a smile, watching as Misty wiped at her cheek repeatedly trying to remove the dirt, only succeeding in spreading it further. Finally, she gave up and sighed, pointing to a flowered bush near to where the other was working.

“And what’s that one?” the Cajun inquired and Cordelia followed her gaze before nodding to explain.

“That there is a-” she was cut off instantly at the feel of soil splattering softly across the bridge of her nose like makeshift freckles, "Aaah Misty!" The woman groaned, pulling her sleeve down to wipe at the soil without dirtying her hands, but even she ended up smearing the muck over her porcelain skin.

“Wow!” her bodyguard expressed in mock delight, “A whole shrub dedicated ta me?” The girl laughed softly, but suddenly ceased when Cordelia’s features where set in stone and slowly, she removed her gloves, which for some reason, hinted to Misty that this wasn’t a good sign.

Her fingers dug into the raw earth, sifting through the dirt and the curly blonde was close to making a sarcastic remark, but Cordelia took a step closer, glancing up to her bodyguard before running her muck-covered fingers across Misty’s cheeks, almost painting her ready for battle.

Foxx couldn’t contain her laughter at the Cajun’s shocked expression, and soon Day was in stitches, swiping her thumb across the older womans chin so that they were somewhat even. Their giggles sounded through the whole greenhouse.

They pulled apart, inspecting each other’s mud striped faces and Cordelia bit her bottom lip to pull back a grin, shaking her head as she turned her attention back to the task at hand, not even caring about the gardening gloves that laid abandoned and forgotten on the counter top.

“Immature child” Foxx stated in a mock insult, the corners of her lips daring to twitch into a smile.

“Plant nerd” Misty responded with equal playful offence.

 

* * *

 

 

“Will ya tell me more about ya husband?” Misty asked quietly after a solid fifteen minutes of working together in silence.

The shorter blonde didn’t even look up from her current task as she answered, shaking her head. “No, the last time I tried to, you called him a Jerk,”. There was next to no expression inhabiting the woman’s soft features, her eyes blank and her lips containing no trace of a smile.

“We weren’t on good terms then! Please, I won’t do it again,” her bodyguard sincerely promised, setting down her trowel to cross over her heart with her finger.

Heaving another sigh, Cordelia’s shoulders drooped just a little, her hands starting to move slower. “I miss him when he doesn’t come home, sometimes I wonder if he’s even bothered by the time we spend apart, if it effects him as much as it does me. He was the sweetest man at one point, like he was trying extra hard to earn my affection, and it almost seemed that after he had it, he stopped trying…”.

The woman paused, her hands stopping in their work all together as she let her mind run for a little while.

“But when he does come home it’s like nothing’s changed, he’s sweet and humble, he tries to look presentable in his own funny way, and somehow, he’s the only person who can see through the sarcasm, the loathing, the cruel and vile woman that I am,” Foxx exhaled and in that moment, she looked vulnerable and upset.

The strongest woman that Misty had ever known looked like she was breaking down in front of her.

“ _I_ can see through that…” Day insisted quietly, torn in the contemplation of resting her hand on the others shoulder for comfort… She did just that. “Ya not mean, Miss Cordelia, not really,”

The shorter blonde turned around to face the girl, her dark eyes sparked with emotion and she opened her mouth to speak, but in that very second, they heard the door to the greenhouse shut.

Before either of them realized it, Misty had drawn her gun and was now standing between Cordelia and the front of the greenhouse, taking one tentative step at a time.

“Who’s there?” The Cajun called, the humour had vanished from her voice, and now in its place was authority and order. Foxx nervously trailed behind her bodyguard, her heart leaping into her throat from the tension.

Suddenly a head popped up from behind one of the benches, causing both blondes to jump and the trespasser to laugh delightedly. The intruder was a girl, younger than Misty with long, mousy brown hair and a bright beam on her lips.

“Holy shit Cordelia! Your girlfriend’s got a gun!” the girl exclaimed, going slightly cross-eyed staring down the barrel of Misty’s gun with heightened panic.

“Zoe!” Foxx nearly shouted when she had finally found her voice again, staring at the brunette with her mouth open in shock. “She’s not my girlfriend, I’m still with Hank… remember? What are you doing here?.”

Zoe pushed her hair over one shoulder before playing with a pair of gardening sheers like they were actually amusing before turning her focus on the older woman, still with that amused little grin upon her pink lips. “Like I could forget… but why? The old git doesn’t deserve you.” She laughed at that as her brows furrowed at the latter question. “Came to drop by on you, Queen Bee. Need to see if you’re still alive!”.

“Why does everyone keep checking that I’m alive?” Cordelia exclaimed, ignoring the first part of the statement and narrowed her eyes towards Misty who still had to lower her weapon. “Hey, put that away, this is Zoe Benson, my only friend that I could keep for more than three months,” She spoke matter-of-factly as the two girls studied the other, up and down, as if both were making sure that the neither was a threat to Cordelia.

“Pleased to meet you,” Benson finally spoke, extending a hand as Misty returned her gun to its holster and shook the girl’s hand with a firm assertive strength.

“And this is officer Day, my bodyguard,” Foxx introduced her as the Cajun merely nodded curtly in limited response, eyes narrowing when Zoe snickered, before laughing fully. She had thankfully put down the sheers by now, knowing her she could’ve taken someone’s eye out.

“And she’s protecting you from what? ... the dandelions?” the brunette continued laughing, earning a hard stare from her friend.

“Shut up. I’m going to get cleaned up, then I’ll be right back down, I think I got some soil on my face.” Cordelia Foxx excused, wiping her hands on a spare towel before exiting the greenhouse, leaving a her dirt-covered bodyguard alone with her deranged best friend. She didn’t know which would suffer the most.

“So,” Zoe began, cutting through the awkward silence, “You and Cordy huh?”.

Misty blinked suddenly, wishing Cordelia was there with her whilst she had to be directly social. “Me and…? No, no ya’ve got it all wrong. I’m just her bodyguard.” The Cajun announced, letting her blue gaze drift to the tray of pansies that were half planted.

“Her bodyguard. Fuck, I thought she was joking! You real?” Zoe walked around the table to stand where Foxx had been moments ago, leaning against the counter and didn’t bother to stop staring at the tall blonde.

“Here in the flesh ain’t I?” Day interjected, glancing up and unable to tear her intense gaze away so the two girls were locked in some sort of staring contest.

“Well I’m not complaining, she could do with the company, her husband’s hardly at home, probably doing it with a few side chicks in the hotels he stays at.” The news surprised Misty and she blinked, a soft frown tugging at her lips. The way Zoe described Hank versus the way Cordelia spoke about him were quite differing.

“You’ve met him?” The officer arched a brow, prompting the other to continue.

“Sure, he acts like a douche, talks like a douche, walks like a douche, I really can’t see what Cordelia sees in him.” Zoe shrugged, turning to face the counter now, watching the newly blooming flowers grow. A heavy, awkward silence landed between them, neither daring to move or talk until Zoe inhaled deeply and started another conversation. “What did you do to her?”.

Misty glanced up in shock and confusion, tilting her head to one side, “Pardon?”.

“Cordelia! She’s acting all nice and lovey-dovey, what did you do to her?” Zoe repeated again, her hands on her hips and waiting for some sort of explanation.

“I…I shouted at her and ignored her then bought her a cheeseburger… I don’ really know! Ya don’t usually cure someone’s hatred with a cheeseburger,” CPO Day exclaimed, unsure herself of what she had done. Zoe looked intrigued, yet also elated, as if Misty had solved all of Cordelia’s problems with a cheeseburger, and the brunette had to test the idea for herself.

“Listen to me, Day. Now I know Cordelia a lot better than anyone else in the world. She’ll be cruel, she’ll be strong, she’ll be a pain in the arse, just to tell you that she doesn’t want your help or just so you don’t get too close too fast. But she needs someone, whether she believes it or not. You can’t give up on her,” Zoe Benson stated with such friendly sincerity that all Misty could do was nod in confirmation, like she was back in the bureau, taking orders from the chief.

“I won’t… I don’t think I ever could,”.

No, Misty Day was never going to give up on Cordelia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually looking forward to the next chapter myself.  
> I'm listening to myself hum 'Little mermaids -kiss the girl-' (hint?)  
> I am trash and I am dying to write a kiss scene okay?!  
> See you soon. Baby Fangirl, out.


	9. Star Eyes

_“She saw me, then. She saw me, as I was for who I was. She saw past my attitude, past my anger, past my loathing and hatred, and she didn’t give up, she even saw past my spite and sarcasm until she saw me just as myself… and I let her. Why? Well, because I… I loved her,” ~Cordelia Foxx_

* * *

* * *

 

Misty struggled with the idea of having to spend the whole Day with Cordelia.

Which sounded incredibly weird in her mind, considering she hadn’t left the woman’s side since she had been assigned to her what felt like forever ago. But since waking up several hours back in the sheer light of the upcoming morning, CPO Day felt something that she hadn’t for a very long time. She was scared.

Today was the day of the Grand Jubilee Celebration, and she would be dancing with a woman who had taught her to waltz only two days prior… not to mention she had to face the one person that she had finally admitted that she undoubtedly had feelings for. She was scared that she’d slip up in some way or another, either slip up in her footwork, slip up in her emotions, or slip up in her job. After all, it was a leak in the company that got six people shot… how was she to protect the woman her heart yearned for if she was dancing the night away like life was some fairytale?

She was afraid of disappointing Cordelia.

She was afraid of her getting hurt.

Misty sat at the dressing table in her borrowed room, staring almost disgusted at her reflection. Why did things have to be so goddamn hard? Before she knew it, her eyes were watering and silent tears leaked from her sky-blue eyes that held all the emotion in the world… for someone whom she couldn’t have.

First of all, Cordelia was married, to a man at that. Why would she ever be interested in her?

Secondly, her job as bodyguard forbade her to act recklessly, feelings for her client were most irrational.

Third of all… Third of all… The Cajun stared at her face in the mirror with loathing as her knuckles turned white at the force of her clenched fist. Her dark eyeliner was streaking in silvery grey paths down her cheeks. Third of all, she was nothing, a nobody. Just a weak mess with baggage. A whole ton of baggage. Misty nodded curtly in agreement with the thoughts that were running through her head.

She would never be good enough for the woman she had accidentally fallen in love with. 

Besides, Day understood it was better this way, without such longing clouding her mind she would do a better job of keeping Foxx safe, and do what she originally meant to be doing. After all, if anything, anything at all happened to her… Misty would never be able to forgive herself.

* * *

 

 

Cordelia had spent all morning complaining… which, to be honest was hardly much of a surprise, but behind her sarcastic comments was a shrill excitement that was not _so_ hard to detect. The woman had downright told her bodyguard how much of a bore these evenings usually were, and how they always seemed to end with Marcus trying to flirt with everything that moves and her being so drunk her mother disowns her for the night. But despite that, the Cajun could tell that the older blonde was still rather excited.

Only two hours ago, Foxx had locked herself in her bedroom to get ready for the upcoming evening, and had bid Misty to quickly do the same. Of course, the shorter woman had spent an awful long time just relaxing under the heated spray of the shower, letting the droplets cascade down her face and her thoughts run wild.  

This time a year ago, and the year before that, and so on, Cordelia would be moping around the kitchen in some expensive yet dull dress, downing a glass of pre-party gin just to see her through the afternoon without trying to strangle someone. Even at the last Jubilee, she had spent half of the time avoiding several of her tipsy employees, locking herself in the bathroom so she didn’t have to endure one more dance partner with worse dancing skills than Frozens duke of Weselton.

But this time, there was something different, something making the woman thrive with joy, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Cordelia had actually spent a very long time figuring what to wear. Tragic, right?

She had just finished her last touches of make-up and had sat back to inspect her reflection, criticizing the shades of eyeshadow before confirming that it looked good, and sighed in slight happiness. It had been all too long since she had felt this content, it had been even longer since she had actually been a joyful person. Her scowl had vanished over the short time of knowing Misty, and in its place was a small, delighted smile.

The business woman was wearing a floor-length red dress that had been tailored specifically to cling to her every curve with a slit cutting high to expose past her knee. The satin garment was light and incredibly soft, and the neckline was at just the right extent and had been stitched with thin threaded patterns of darker red, webbing in beautiful intricate patterns down the dress.

Her golden tresses had been curled softly and remained loose, hanging with expressive volume across her shoulders. And it was safe to say, her make-up was perfect as usual.

Foxx was rather surprised at her reflection, the image looked happy, so happy, a smile blooming on her sweet lips and her eyes alight with life and hope, hope for what, only God knew… but since when did she look so… content? Cordelia knew what the others said about her in the office, when they thought she couldn’t here, word always ended up on her doorstep, and at the time, she didn’t even care. Everyone said that she didn’t know how to be happy, and for the longest of times, the blonde secretly agreed with them. She always wore a frown of displeasure, her brows furrowed in uneasy disgruntlement, but now, where bitterness once abided there was delight…

She’d only know Misty for a little while, how did anyone have the power to take a broken woman made of pure stone and turn her into this?

A timid knock sent Cordelia’s spirits soaring all the more, and she crossed the room with the speed of light to unlock her door, her heels following in rhythmic thuds against the floor with almost deafening taps.

Seeing Misty in her doorway caused a flurry of different emotions to whirlwind in her chest. The Cajun stood there in another suit, confusing the older woman slightly, her wild hair had obviously been combed, causing her curls to puff up just a little bit more; but her smile was beautiful; and she held something behind her back, concealing it from view.

“Misty! What are you hiding there, or dare I even ask?” her brow furrowed softly as a cautious chuckle escaped her whilst her heart hammered with rapid beating as her gaze found and held those starry blue eyes that even seemed softer somehow.

After a brief hesitation and a spectacular grin, Day brought forth a small bouquet of freshly-cut flowers, even dramatically bowing at the gesture, “They’re for ya! A lil arrangement of _‘Aahh Misty’s’_ ta celebrate,” the officer flourished the flowers towards Cordelia with obvious charm, biting softly on her lower lip.

Delia laughed at the remembrance of yesterday’s event, when the white Azalea where renamed after the Cajun had so elegantly flicked her with soil.

She took the little bouquet of delicate white flowers, the aroma still intoxicating as she buried her nose among the fragile petals, letting the current feeling of surprise and happiness consume her. “Thank you…” Cordelia bit her lip, gaze locking with Misty’s before drifting down to the other’s outfit. Another suit, even if it was more elegant than usual, “What are you wearing?”.

The wild-haired girl looked down at her attire, before puzzling over her thoughts, trying to remember exactly, “Gianni Versace, I think?” she figured with a small shrug, returning her bright smile back to the other.

“No, I mean the suit, I already told you, you ought to be wearing a dress as my plus one. Like a real Lady,” Cordelia all but pulled the other into her room, letting the door swing shut behind them as she led Day further ahead, facing the girl a moment.

“I ain’t no real lady, Miss Cordelia,” she complained, an obvious pout tugging at her lips, like a moody four-year-old.

“Hey, if you can make me look like a casual mom and take me to a greasy shack, I can make you look like a princess and take you to a ball, deal?” Mrs Foxx decided with a challenging smile. After receiving a begrudging grunt in response, the shorter blonde started running her fingers through the Cajuns absolute mess of thick, golden tresses with a concerned frown. “Tell me Misty, do you know what a hair brush is?”

The other scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Yes”.

“Do you know how to use one?” Cordelia chided, causing her bodyguard to narrow her eyes playfully. She bit her bottom lip again to hide her growing smile, unable to hide the fact that she did so love teasing the girl.

“Shut up,” Day responded, crossing her arms to complete the whole tantrum look.

“Misty it looks like you tried to stick your fingers in a plug socket.”. Still, Cordelia wandered off into the en suit, bringing back a fluffy white towel gown and held it out for the other. “Here put this on for now,”

“My bathrobe! Told ya I’d rather wear this than one of ya tight dresses,” She gloated gleefully, happily taking the thing and skipping off into the bathroom to change. Although she had gotten so far with Cordelia Foxx, she wasn’t right ready to be stripping in front of her yet.

 A mere minute had passed when the bodyguard returned, carrying her own clothes in a neat, folded pile, setting them on the bed. Cordelia grabbed her hand and led Misty over to her Vanity dresser, promptly sitting the girl down on the stool.

“Hey, ya closet is the other way,” the Cajun observed in blatant confusion, glancing over her shoulder to inspect Delia’s smug grin.

“I know, I’m going to fix this lions mane up first, then do your makeup,” She explained with therapeutic excitement, watching as Misty’s eyes grew wide and horrified, objecting immediately.

“Do my WHAT? I can’t afford therapy on my salary!” Cordelia could only laugh as she petted the girl’s wild hair endearingly.

“Deal with it Goldilocks,”.

* * *

 

 

Misty had sat in complete silence whilst Cordelia messed around with her hair. She had suffered being pulled this way and that, almost getting burnt with those damn straighteners, and even endured several hairgrips stabbing ruthlessly into her scalp.

Blue eyes maintained a steady focus with the jewelry box in front of her, not due to her fascination, but simply because Day didn’t want to see her reflection, almost terrified of what she was going to see staring back at her. Would all her insecurity come streaming when her hair was different and her face no longer looking like her own?

The Officer didn’t sit as still when it came to make-up, fidgeting every now and then, causing Delia to swear in abundance when she was applying eye liner, but after what felt like an eternity of hell and torture, Cordelia stood back, finally letting loose a breath she had been holding; looking just as exhausted as the Cajun felt. “I think you’re done… Do you want to look?”, the woman inquired shortly after, when the younger blonde let her gaze wander anywhere but towards the mirror.

Misty toyed with her own fingers, torn between wanting so badly to see what she looked like, but the other half of her was still afraid, after all, Cordelia wasn’t magic, and that’s what she needed to look as good as her client. After another worrying second, the bodyguard slowly lifted her head, sapphire eyes finally meeting the same blue in the mirror.

She gasped.

For a while, Misty didn’t believe that the woman on the other side of the glass was her. She was beautiful, she was elegant, and she looked just like one of those cliché princesses that Disney made movies about. Her hair was sleek and shiny, a river of pure gold in an intricate updo that would put hairdressers to shame. Half her hair was pulled up in such breathtaking arrangement and half was left down, but curled so that the ends just reached the base of her neck. And having her hair back and up in such a gorgeous formation, it revealed more of her face than what her curls would usually curtain.

But… but she wasn’t that beautiful… she couldn’t be. In a last attempt to cling to her sanity, Misty let her hand raise, in a gentle wave, watching in shock and slight delight when the pretty woman copied her actions and she involuntarily gasped again.

“You… you made me look beautiful,” The Cajun whispered timorously, still trying to believe that those lush rendered lips that moved in time with hers, were her own. Cordelia bent forward, so that her face was close beside Misty’s and both looked at their reflection side by side.

“I didn’t make you look beautiful Misty, you were always beautiful, I just, coloured you up a bit,” the older woman answered, glancing the girl who’s gaze broke from the mirror to meet hers only two inches away.

“You think I looked beautiful?” she inquired almost hopefully as her star-lit blue eyes softened at the sight of chocolate brown.

“Always,” Cordelia replied, and grinned awhile at the Cajun, even when her gaze returned to the mirror, Foxx’s never left her lips.

Her smile was soft and timid, almost as if she was scared to smile in case the movement changed anything about her makeover. But still it was the kindest smile Cordelia had ever seen. She was so beautiful… even without a face full of makeup.

* * *

 

“I have the perfect dress for you, Misty,” at this, the young blonde stood, her wariness returning as she practically waddled over to the other who stood in the middle of the room holding one of those hangers with a protective plastic cover securing the attire from dust, moths or whatever damage could occur to a dress in a wardrobe, hell even Narnia.

“C-can I see?” the Cajun asked and Cordelia simply laughed, before nodding and began to unzip the cover, removing the dress and holding it up for the girl to inspect.

The dress was beyond beautiful. It was as white as crisp snow, yet felt as sleek and light as silk. The skirt wouldn’t reach her knees but it was slightly puffy giving the dress a gorgeous volume. It had no sleeves, aside from the white ribbon that was attached to the collar and flew out and around the arms like Belle’s golden dress from another of those Disney movies. Was Cordelia a Disney Fanatic? The middle of the ribbon dipped where the centre of the bodice dipped also, displaying a silvery white gem. The skirt had intricate lace patterns weaving across the whole dress, unmistakably like a thin layer of frost in all its glorious designs, webbing to the bodice as well. Alongside the dress were a pair of small white gloves like those that Duchess’ wear; and also a small pair of white heeled shoes with little white butterflies at the front. Cinderella? Goddamit Cordelia.

“It’s the most gorgeous dress I’ve ever seen…” The officer confessed in awe, almost scared to touch it in case she broke it. How on earth she could break a dress she would never know… but she was Misty Day, Close Protection Officer of Safety Bureau Courts and Majesty, she could somehow manage.

The business woman bit gently on her bottom lip, in awe at just seeing the way Misty’s eyes glistened. “Take off the robe,” she whispered, unzipping the back of the dress, pausing for a second when the girl didn’t move, “We’re both women, Mist, it’s fine,” she chided, frowning ever so slightly when again, her bodyguard refused, rooted to the very spot. “Misty, remove the damn bathrobe,”.

The admiration and delight somewhat faded from her eyes, the smile vanishing to nothing on her lips.

Misty turned around slowly forcing her feet to shuffle on the ground; unfastening the tie that secured the garment around her waist, she slowly let the towel fall past her thin, milky-white shoulders and down her arms. The girls back was covered in white scars that had long since healed, gashes that had obviously been deep and tracks of evident pain. At first glance, Cordelia could count at least twenty of those large wicked lines, but when she focused there were more, much more that had almost faded completely, smaller scars that even curled around to her shoulders.

The robe dropped further, revealing several brown bruises on the backs of the Cajuns legs and Foxx wondered how she had never seen them before. Of course, she had only ever seen this much of the girl exposed only once. It was then she remembered how Misty had tucked her legs up to her side when Cordelia had been staring at her… she had thought it was just her unease, but perhaps it was more?

Ever so slowly and slightly mortified, Misty faced the older woman again, shaking gently, either from cold or fear, she couldn’t tell which. All that she could see from the front was an awful arrangement of purple bruises toning Days stomach and the healed scars that tracked up her arms.

Now… it just looked all wrong. Bright, smiling officer Day planting things in her greenhouse couldn’t have been the same woman who shook before her covered in scars and bruises. “Misty w-what happened to you?” Cordelia questioned, her eyes stinging with scorching heat as burning tears glossed over, threatening to fall.

“It’s from training, they don’ take it easy on ya in the bureau,” The girl mumbled, glancing down to the marks on her stomach, all those negative feelings from that morning surrounding her like demons.

“What about your back, I’m sure that didn’t happen in bodyguard training,” The older woman assumed, shaking her head as she fought her own tears, staring at the face of CPO Day, almost ashamed and afraid to look lower again.

“We’re going to be late,” the girl mumbled, crossing her arms over her stomach, the cool air finally meeting her exposed skin.

“Won’t you talk to me?” Cordelia asked, almost pained that Misty kept all of this to herself. “I want to help you,”.

“Maybe, but not now,” Misty shrugged, unable to meet her insistent gaze.

“Then tomorrow, we need to talk about this tomorrow, do you hear me?” Cordelia insisted, stepping forward to catch the Cajuns chin between her index finger and her thumb. Slowly, Misty’s blue gaze caught hers again, yet those wide eyes were full of sorrow and resentment.

“Tomorrow,”.

 

Misty raised her arms and Cordelia slipped the dress over her head, careful not to damage the hair style. She allowed the back of her fingers to lightly caress the smooth skin as she slid the dress down until it was in place, and slowly zipped it back up, covering those deep, horrid scars.

When Misty finally turned around, she could see that the girl was clearly upset, and it pained her to see… she wanted, no, needed to have that smile back. “Misty, you’re absolutely gorgeous,”.

Blue eyes glanced up in soft surprise and emotion, meeting that sincere gaze yet again, “Ya… ya still think so?”.

“Yes… Yes I do,” She picked one of the small Azalea flowers, the white petals matching everything else and carefully embedded the delicate thing among those golden tresses.

But God she was so beautiful, and Cordelia wasn’t even thinking of her own handiwork. Misty had a natural glow, a gorgeous heartwarming aura that surrounded her like a most pleasant autumn breeze. She wore delicacy and undermining strength in her breathtaking gaze at the same time, like her eyes were lit up with fire, yet all the beauty of nature too; she even had constellations hidden in such mesmerizing blue. Her smile was unsure, unsteady, yet more beautiful than the night-lit view of Paris, and more enthralling than the seven wonders of the world. Misty Day was shining with radiance, and Foxx could only wonder how she had never truly seen it before.

 

* * *

 

 

CPO Day had insisted on doing a thorough sweep, calculating all the risks and mapping the nearest fire escapes and inspecting each hazard. Her confidence had returned to her in the car, when she had began humming along to Leather and Lace, and she finally began to feel like herself again.

The celebration was extravagant. The Grand Hall lived up to its reputation and all… grand. The décor was beyond anything she had ever dreamed about, and if Misty had to guess, it was the kind of style that heaven would have. There was an orchestra playing at one end of the hall, chairs and tabled to one side where guests would sit, chat and eat. Waiters brought champagne in fancy tall glasses on a silver platter and at the other end of the hall was the buffet and the drinks station, which was if course, where Misty had left and found Cordelia Foxx.

“Cordelia don’t ya dare,” she whispered behind her as the woman refilled her glass of punch.

“Huh?” the shorter blonde glanced up, almost confused at the idea of hearing a voice, tilting her head ever so gently to one side.

“Put it down,” Misty grinned, continuing to whisper behind her friend, “This is your conscience calling, put down the punch,” she giggled gently her hands resting on both of the other’s shoulders.

“Don’t pull the jiminy Cricket card on me,” Cordelia stated with a satisfied smirk as she slowly turned around to smile up at Misty with a warmth that only Day managed to bring her. “Hey there, Conscience,”

The Cajun grinned down at her, pushing a stray lock of golden hair over Cordelia’s shoulder, “Hi plant nerd,”. The older woman laughed, finally putting down her glass as she let her joy bubble in her stomach, a bubble that she could tell wasn’t alcohol. “Can I have this dance?” Misty asked out of the blue.

“I don’t know, Can you?” Foxx chuckled, taking Day’s hand.

“Probably not, in these heels I’m likely ta fall flat on my face,” Misty confessed easily with a light chuckle bursting forth from her lips with grace.

“Wow, impressive. Here, no, let me try!” Cordelia stepped back quickly, clearing her throat dramatically before strutting regally over to the taller blonde, reminding her of some snobby Lord brought up a rich family.

“Hi! Do you want to dance?” She asked in an excited glee, her smile bright and energetic, almost making her bodyguard laugh again. Seeing the girl grin that way could make something inside of her explode… although she couldn’t fully tell what it was just yet.

“No! Not exactly,” Misty replied with just as much forced happy enthusiasm, “But then again, I didn’t let you make a fool out of me in your office, just to stand here and watch you get drunk, come on,”. With that, Day took Cordelia’s hand once more and led her over to the large expanse of floor where other people were already dancing together in synchronized harmony.

 

Misty immediately wrapped an arm around the womans waist, pulling her closer as their conjoined hands fit perfectly together, and before long, they had fell into prefect step with the music and other couples surrounding them.

Cordelia was actually impressed and more than surprised, glancing up to her bodyguard with an admiring smile, “You know, you’re a better dancer than you let on, How did you…”

“I practiced, in my room,” Day cut in, admitting the statement openly, hoping it wouldn’t be as embarrassing that way, “Last night an’ the night before. I didn’t want ta show ya up by being the only one there ta trip over.” A soft blush was starting to highlight her cheeks, yet to Foxx, it was endearingly sweet.

“Mist, you didn’t have to do that,” she announced, genuinely touched that Officer Day would actually do such a thing for her. She managed the steps in equal rhythm to Misty and but her lip gently, just in response to such a wonderful moment.

The Cajun nodded curtly, as if she were still on duty, her ringlets caressing the back of her neck. “I had ta live up ta your classy reputation,” she reminded with a soft smile, gaze locked intimately with Cordelia’s.

“My classy reputation doesn’t have to be that way… I don’t want it to always be that way,” the older woman tried her best to explain, sighing a little and the girls confused expression, prompting her to continue, “I’d be just as happy to be on some old couch in some old jeans with a cheeseburger and watching some overrated drama with you, as I am here,”.

Misty felt her heart thud in time with the waltz, hammering against her rib cage in rhythmic triplet beats, “Really?”

“Yes,” Cordelia admitted, rather dazed by the beautiful face that held her devoted attention.  

 “Well we’ll do it sometime… you really do look lovely, Miss Cordelia,” Misty admitted in shy compliment, finally having the courage to do or say something after the presentation of the flowers.

“That’s so nice of you,” Foxx smiled, unable to contain her happiness in that moment.

 

Fiona stood to one side of the hall, not bothering to participate in these pathetic routines, waving away any hopeless benefactor that tried to talk to her. Polished nails circled the rim of a half empty champagne glass all the while her intense eagle eyes fixed on her daughter. She looked drunk already, laughing and joyous, giggling stupidly at whatever that street whore said.

But, then again… Cordelia was more of a talkative drunk, she should be mouthing off about her trampoline awards when she was six my now. And now Ms Goode even recognized those eyes of that woman her daughter. That was the bodyguard she’d hired for her… and she was dancing, with Cordelia?

Sharp eyes narrowed still, watching the way her daughter smiled, the way her eyes lit up and focused purely on that officers face. Delia didn’t smile, she’d finally taken after her and become the woman she always wanted and needed her to be.

Still, she watched the way her own flesh and blood laughed again, staring at Day with admiration and affection, God, she wasn’t blind!

“Oh Delia, what have you done?” The woman berated, raising the glass to her thin lips to train the alcohol.

 

“I was a bitch to you,” Cordelia admitted regretfully, a shadow of resent crossing her features for a split second, “I was absolutely awful, I shouted at you, I blamed you... yet here you are, still, why did you stay?” the older woman wondered, her brows furrowing slightly in mild confusion.

Day grinned softly, still moving with the fluidness of a river, “There was more to you, there was always more to you, and I stayed because I believed in you, I still believe in you… besides the fact I was stuck with you anyway and can’t leave of my own accord,” she added, laughing shortly and Cordelia was quick to join in.

“Do you want to leave?” the shorter blonde finally asked, her gentle frown returning.

“No, Never,” Misty replied, quicker than she would’ve liked. But she didn’t regret her answer. If CPO Day was called back into the bureau the next morning, she wouldn’t manage easily.

“Come with me,” Cordelia stated in a hushed whisper, leading her bodyguard away from all these people that she should know, all the while keeping hold of the Cajun’s hand like it was a lifeline. They weaved through dancers and other talkative managers until they finally slipped through the commotion and those thin curtains onto the large balcony.

Night had already fallen and the stars decorated the dark expanse of sky like diamonds. Above them, the pale moon glowed and Foxx watched as the silver light bathed Misty’s perfect face.

“This is really beautiful, Miss Cordelia,” she whispered in awe, almost breathless at the view.

“Misty…” the womans voice came out in a quiet whisper, yet desperate and soft, brushing the pads of her fingertips across the smooth skin of the girl’s hand, drawing Day’s attention wholeheartedly back to her.

“Uh-huh?” The taller blonde insinuated, almost pleading for Cordelia to continue. She couldn’t draw her gaze away from her, and the way she bit her bottom lip… she felt as if she were about to explode.

“I have something to say…” She began, and it crushed her to feel this timid, she was a Goode, _the_ Cordelia Goode, who didn’t feel fear or regret. A building breath filled her lungs and the woman followed on, “I want to start with an apology, for everything that I did, everything that I said that hurt you…”, again she paused, unable to see why she couldn’t just say what she had to.

“And what are ya gonna finish with?” Misty asked, her star-lit blue eyes wide and hopeful… at least, what Cordelia thought was hopeful, after all, she wasn’t good at reading people.

The shorter blonde sighed softly, meeting what that incredible gaze again, that somehow gave her the power to admit it all. “I’ll end with confessing that you’ve done things to me that I simply can’t ignore. You’ve changed me, in a way I didn’t know I needed. But I do need it, just as I need you.”

“Can’t we just start at the end?” Day replied breathlessly, the anticipation almost wounding her. It made Cordelia smile, even then, just how wonderfully different Misty Day was. And she loved her for it.

Ethereal fingertips stroked across the Cajun’s sharp jaw, caressing down so that she just traced the corners of those inviting, warm lips. The breath caught in the back of Misty’s throat and those long digits hooked beneath Cordelia’s chin, raising her head ever so slightly as the woman stepped forward, vanquishing the space that was between them. And that’s when she kissed her bodyguard.

Misty’s lips were so much softer than anything she had ever known, yet still firm and pleasing, sending butterflies to nestle in her stomach. Kissing the girl made her happier than she had felt in a long time and nothing could compare to the waves of adoration that came crashing down on the pair of them.

Day returned the kiss with passion and excitement, the taste of Cordelia’s cherry lip balm had her senseless. She had never been kissed this way before, and there was nothing so beautiful in the world than that.

She pulled away, breathless and startled, and or a second, all they could do was stare at the other, catching their breath and looking for a sign that it was okay…

And almost instantaneously they rushed back together, caught up in the other’s arms and kissing again and again like it was the last night of the world. Misty couldn’t tell how long they were like that, Minutes? Hours? She didn’t care… there was only one thing that could stop her from kissing Cordelia Foxx.

Again, she pulled away, but her eyes met the stone beneath her feet, and the older woman frowned in pure concern.

“Mist… What’s wrong? D-Did I do something?” The Cajun shook her head, inhaling and exhaling to calm herself for a moment.

“I’m flawed, Cordelia,” the girl admitted, a crystal tear escaping and leaving a trail of liquid moonlight in its wake, but the older woman was quick to wipe it away.

“I know, but that’s okay, we’re all flawed, I accept that and I accept you. I don’t care that you’re flawed Misty, I need you in my life,” she exclaimed, bringing the officer back into her arms carefully, caressing her cheek affectionately,

“You do?” Day asked, smiling once again, creating the happiness inside of Fiona’s daughter, and Cordelia didn’t hesitate to match that grin and lovingly press her lips against Misty’s once again.

“I do… I promise you, Star eyes,”.


	10. Reminiscense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter contains triggering content including physical abuse, sexual assault and self-harm, and some of these events are awful yet sadly do happen every day. I apologize sincerely if my writing upsets anyone. I actually write from experience for some of these following scenes and if anyone has a situation like this, I’m always here for you, my lovely readers xoxo ~ Your Baby Fangirl

_“Everyone has secrets, baggage that they don’ want anyone else ta find out. I trusted Cordelia more than anyone in the whole world, I knew I was safe telling her everything,” ~Misty Day_

 

* * *

* * *

 

When Close Protection Officer Day forced open her heavy-lidded eyes the next morning, she had discovered an all new meaning for her _Close_ Protection.

The messy-haired bodyguard spent a long while studying the situation that she found herself in; a situation that included a gun, a pair of high heels, a mess of bed sheets and Cordelia Foxx; who was still sleeping soundly and facing her direction.

Day let her cerulean eyes wander for another moment, narrowing slightly as she remembered the fact that she was wearing a pair of the older woman’s silken, pink, pyjamas instead of her usual oversized shirt and shorts that were usually hidden beneath the flowing hem line; and in that moment Misty brought the nights memories back to the front of her mind.

 

\--

When they had finally gotten home after a car-ride that was all too silent, the Cajun felt her nerves increase, as if she wasn’t sure that Cordelia would still want her the same way here as she did in that moment on the balcony. Yet after so long of tense quietness, the shorter blonde finally clicked as she looked the door of her car.

“What’s the matter Star-eyes?” She had inquired tenderly, using her newly bestowed pet name that the bodyguard secretly loved, and had took Misty’s ice-cold hand into her own.

Without letting a single second slip by, the curly-blonde answered, “Nothing,” still, she didn’t have to look up to meet Cordelia’s dark eyes to tell that the older woman didn’t believe her rushed statement, and with a soft sight, Day responded. “I don’t know what ta expect, I’m rather afraid that ya’ll realize that ya don’t actually like me after all…” Her word trailed off brokenly behind her, coming to a halt on the porch when the other had stopped, and faced her, the high moon still casting a silver glow upon her features.

“Look at me Misty Day, I don’t think I could ever forget how much I love you. I close my eyes and all I can see is that smile of yours, when you were in my greenhouse, face covered in dirt. I open my eyes and… there you are, looking radiant,” Foxx explained candidly, and as soon as the words had left her lips, Misty had her own pressed against them in a searing kiss, leaving Cordelia to blindly unlock the door.

Exactly three minutes later, the shorter blonde was returning another feverish kiss before pulling apart and throwing her own nightclothes at the Cajun. “You’re sleeping here tonight, Day, I need someone to kiss at night,”. Changing into her own silver nightgown, Cordelia brought the other closer, passionately finding her smooth lips beneath her own even though her bodyguard was only half dressed.

They caught their breath as Cordelia circled to her side of the bed, slipping of her heels and leaving them at the bottom of the sheets as she watched Misty pull her gun from beneath the short skirt of her dress and her mouth dropped open.

“Where the heck where you hiding that?!” She exclaimed whilst the younger blonde rest her weapon by the others shoes and finished changing before slipping into bed beside Cordelia Foxx. Foxx. They hadn’t even discussed Hank yet, but a part of Misty didn’t ever want to.

“It don’ matter Miss Cordelia,” The girl answered, pulling her hair down from its intricate styling, letting her semi-straightened waves fall in front of her cheeks before she faced the woman that she loved and kissed her again, “What matter is, I love ya,”

“I love you too, Star-eyes,” and with that, they exchanged soft kisses, and affectionate touches before slowly drifting into a lovely sleep.

\--

And now the bodyguard stared down at the older woman whose head had managed to find its way onto her chest, and her own arms had wrapped securely around her client. Her heart beat began to race suddenly, just as the sight of Cordelia laying in her arms so perfectly content and happy; and even in this subconscious state, Misty adored the hell out of her!

“Let me guess, you’re just going to stare at me until I pretend to wake up, open my eyes and you’ll quickly look away to fool me into thinking you hadn’t been watching me for the best part of twenty minutes,” Cordelia calculated in a hoarse, sleep induced whisper, her eyes still closed, but a gentle smirk tugged at her lips.

Misty couldn’t respond, opening and closing her mouth several times, surprised that her lover was awake. The slow reply prompted the shorter blonde to open her eyes and stretch in the others arms. Before pressing a drowsy kiss to the Cajuns cheek. “Good morning to you too babe, I slept wonderfully thank you,” The woman chuckled and Misty blushed gently, but Cordelia just snuggled closer quite contently.

“G’Morning, Delia,” the curly-haired blonde spoke, unable to contain the rhythmic pounding of her hear that wanted to explode in her chest. “I uh… got a little question,” she began rather timidly, glancing down to the woman who was staring intently up at her with a warm smile on her lips,

“Yes Misty, I still love you, and if that’s it, can we go downstairs and make Coffee? I’m so thirsty!” The shorter blonde announced coaxing a true bubble of laughter from the bodyguard. That was the answer she had hoped for to her unasked question, and the Cajun nodded quickly.

“Yeah, Coffee sounds great!”

 

Cordelia set a steaming mug of hot, black coffee in front of the bodyguard on the polished table in the living room, making sure that there was a coaster between the bottom of the cup and the surface of the wood. The older woman wrapped both her hands around her own coffee before sitting down on the sofa right next to the Cajun, sharing a warm smile before raising the cup to her lips.

Even though she words had failed her when she had seen CPO Day with her hair straightened and styled, and her features highlighted with make-up, nothing could ever beat the sight of Misty with her hair in her natural curls cascading down her back, and her wide, soft blue eyes so bright and keen. This was the real Misty, and the most gorgeous one.

“I wasn’ staring at ya this mornin’ y’know,” Misty hinted playfully causing the older woman to laugh and almost choke on her beverage.

“No, you were just causally looking around… in one place, right at me, yes?” Foxx answered, bringing forth a soft giggle from the taller blonde. Day’s face lit up with a smile as she let herself lean gently against the other, and Cordelia instantly wrapped an arm around her.

“Whatever,” Misty responded, more than happy just to sit like that, cuddled into the older woman in a state of protection she never knew she needed, but being there, like that, the Cajun had never felt so safe and secure. Shouldn’t this be the other way around?

A small moment of relaxed silence passed before Cordelia spoke again, her tone rather forlorn and serious, making the young woman frown gently, her brows furrowing lightly. “Misty… you know I want to talk about what I saw yesterday… I really want to know. I want to know if I can help you now, with everything you’re dealing with,” With her spare hand, the business woman traced delicate patterns onto Misty’s cheeks with her fingers, coaxing a shuddering sigh from the wild-blonde.

“I don’t know where to start,” the younger blonde admitted with a drawn exhale falling past her soft, warm lips, her ocean-blue eyes set on her coffee, as her mind raced, opening a door which behind she tried to lock all of the bad memories, her demons and her nightmares, and in a horrifying instant, they instantly began to consume her.

Cordelia set down her cup, taking Misty’s hand in her own, sweetly stroking the back of her hand with her thumb as she prompted her bodyguard to go on, “Start with whatever is the easiest to talk about,” she bit gently on her plump, lower lip, knowing that none of Misty’s trauma would be labelled under ‘easy to talk about’.

“The bruises happened almost two weeks before I was assigned this case,” she declared in the quietest whisper, so fragile that Cordelia could hardly believe it was her strong Day speaking.

 

_Breathless, Misty returned to her bunk in the North wing, section J1B 304 and plonked herself down on her thin, worn mattress, reaching over for her bottle of water, draining half of the flask and pouring just a little on her hands and wetting her heated face._

_It had been a successful day in training, Commander Jefferson had challenged each of group number 304 against each other, seventeen men, one woman. They had spent from early morning all the way till mid-afternoon sparring and defending, until the Bureau had all agreed that CPO Day came out top-rank, all seventeen males behind her._

_But now, she was exhausted, and truly looked forward to sleeping, not even bothering to spend Dinner with the other groups and modules in the underground canteen that stretched for half the perimeter; for although she would have loved to have celebrated her victory with her friend Kyle from the intelligence module, all Day wanted to do was regain her energy and rest her aching muscles._

_Setting down her water, Misty let loose a heavy exhale, too tired to even let allow the corners of her lips to tug into a satisfied smile knowing that all her relentless hard work had paid off, and she, CPO Day, just claimed the title of senior Officer, highest of her rank._

_Her heavy eyes fell closed and the Cajun had never felt so relaxed in her thief than she did in that moment and all her burning muscles began to sooth as she slipped in and out of a light sleep._

_She could hear the door swing quietly open, and the woman guessed it was wither Nigel, the youngest of their team coming back to change his jacket like he did every day before outdoor training, or Kyle coming to find her after missing her at dinner. Unfortunately, that door swung open to neither._

_A firm hand roughly clasped over her lips and the instant yell of shock and sudden fear was nothing but muffled cried of distress. Blue eyes flew open just as another two hands held her wrists, hauling her up from her bunk._

_Surrounding her were eight of her own team, two securing her arms in place, and a third still with his hand over her mouth. Jordan. Jordan would have easily been Senior Officer if Misty wasn’t in the way, he was big, and he was strong, and he scared half of Module 304._

_“Day, Day Day. Or should we say Senior Officer,” he spoke mockingly, earning a few supportive chuckled from the others. “See, Day, the boys here aren’t all too happy with you showing them up in training today,” Jordan announced, his twisted face only inches from her own “Being beaten is a fate that’s hardly bearable as it is… but being beaten by a blonde little girl, well, that’s just embarrassing,”._

_Again, another round of agreement passed the other seven men. Only half of her team where there… so surely the other nine were okay with her… at least Nigel and Dominic were kind of her friends, but where were they?_

_“You showed us up Day,” Jordan almost whined, as if he wished that he didn’t have to do what he was about to, and with furrowed brows, his hand that didn’t cover her mouth balled into a rock-like fist and hit her right in the stomach, causing the girl to double over in pain._

_“Yeah! She showed us up!” another added, and without a single order, her supposed team moved in like a flock of vultures, to take swings at the curly blonde. The two holding onto her arms kept her in place as punch after punch flew at her ribs; at her sides, face and chest; scattering collections of dark bruises upon her pale body._

_Misty could taste her own blood in the back of her mouth, she could feel her blood dripping from her nose, the pain of her split lip leading her to believe that she was bleeding there too._

_Her team didn’t just break her nose and a rib, but they broke her spirit._

The expression that Cordelia Foxx wore was one of pure pain and concern as she tried to console her lover in every way possible, only letting go of her hand once to pass the Cajun her coffee, feeling like the girl needed a break after that. “Misty, Baby, that’s awful, they should be banned from the protection protocol if they hurt you like that,” She exclaimed, shaking her head softly as her perfectly arched brow furrowed in sympathy… what could she possibly say?

“No, it was alright… It ain’t the worst thing that ever happened ta me,” Misty whispered, leaning forward to put down her cup after another drink.

“Tell me about that, love,” Cordelia encouraged timidly, her hand finding Misty’s again as soon as the cup had left her fingertips.

“My… My Step-father used ta, hurt me when I was little, it only got worse when I was growing up. When I did things wrong, or didn’t do things good enough, he’d make me wait in my room and then he’d hit me with the belt he was wearing. Sometimes it was so hard, that I’d bleed, and couldn’t move for hours. He would hurt me more when he was drunk, and after my mama died, that was more than ever.” The girl shivered and Cordelia held her closer.

“That’s child abuse!” she exclaimed, already rather angered by the monster that hurt her darling little Cajun.

“But it got worse, when I became a teenager, he saw that I was growing up, and didn’t want me to forget who was still in charge,”

_Misty had been nervous all day long. She couldn’t help it. Her school was sending off their reports that day, and although she had begged and pleaded, her tutor informed her that the reports had to be sent home, there was no way about it; and after asking if everything was alright, the curly haired girl only nodded hurriedly and sprinted home as fast as she could, her heart thundering inside her chest and her nerves higher than mount Everest._

_Her step father didn’t care about how she was doing in school; he didn’t care that she was being bullied by the large group of girls that mocked her inexpensive fashion choices and the jeering boys that mocked her accent; he just cared that her grades stayed perfect… but how could they when both home and school were a living nightmare?_

_As soon as she had shut the front door behind her, his fist collided with her face and in the split second that she was staggering, trying to maintain her balance through the blinding pain, he was already pushing her in the direction of the stairs._

_Misty knew better than to fight, she received more belt lashes for resisting or taking her time, and as she fell haphazardly up the stairs, she had time to see the school’s brown envelope ripped on the carpet and a screwed up piece of paper crumpled by its side._

_“A Goddamn C? I didn’ raise a fucking dumb blonde? What the fuck are you playing at?” her stepfather roared, pushing her over towards her bed, making the curly-haired blonde whimper, turning around to look at him._

_His eyes glazed with fury and sent waves of panic to wash over the young student. Approaching dangerously, His heavy, solid palm connected with her cheek, dragging a harsh cry from her throat as the pain shot through her veins and the slap echoed through the whole house. “Is this your way of repaying me? By fucking humiliating this family name with your stupidity and worthlessness?”_

_Misty began shaking her head rapidly, but received only another stinging hit to the other side of her face, and before she knew it, his usually heavy belt was sliding through the loops on his trousers. She was still awfully scarred from the last time, he surely couldn’t have expected her to heal that fast._

_He pushed her once again, and after landing face first on her bed covers, Misty had little time to react before her shirt was pushed past her shoulders revealing her array of scars that his wicked belt had already made, so many of them still red and raw and only a handful had faded to pink, and those ones didn’t ache._

_“You’re useless, little runt, ya’d have bin a real disappointment to your mother if she was alive, but no, you killed her before you could get around to breaking her heart with your pathetic life. Yes, she died because of you, how do you fell now, runt?” the tall man growled and tears were already slipping from her eyes._

_“Please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I never meant ta- I tried! Please! No,” Misty begged through her tears, a loud helpless scream tearing from her throat as the leather belt came down on her already scarred flesh with a deafening crack and blinding pain._

_She struggled to breath, clutching her sheets desperately as her eyes closed as tight as they could, sobbing still as another lashing marked her back with a fresh scar. After more insults; more horrid, awful words and more cracks of his unyielding belt, Misty Day was in agony and bleeding._

_She couldn’t move, the pain in her back preventing her from even trying to lift herself to safely. But it was then that his rough groping hands were suddenly tugging harshly at the waistband of her jeans, and desperately, Misty tried to crawl away, the sting in her flesh searing._

_Tears of pain and tears of terror stained Misty’s skin, edging from her step fathers wandering hands, letting out painful cries as he pushed her down with a firm hand on her stinging back, squashing all her tremendous efforts at getting away._

_Her frightful pleads landed upon deaf ears as she fought in every way that she could as his belt-free jeans slid down and Misty cried harder, trying to reach back, get him to stop, but his firm grip had not left her torn back and the heavy pain was burning and truthfully, despite how much she tried, the Cajun could no longer move._

_It’s painful, what he does, too painful for even words to describe and she has to bite on her own lip, forcing blood to collect in her mouth, rather than scream, knowing it would raise his anger. Silent cries molded with feverish tears that streamed soundlessly as he rutted viciously into her with reckless abandon, not caring for her pain, or her humanity._

_Her body was in pure physical pain, but inside, she was numb. Her whole life crumbling apart before her as she felt helpless and sick as every one of her defenses failed. But the numbness consumed her, the fragile girl was broken in so many more ways than one._

_And when he left, Misty spent hours in that numb shock before the tears began again, and she would stagger into the bathroom to clean her own wounds. Yet foolishly, she had hoped that it would never be like that again, that she could recover from the traumatic horrors that plagued her every second of living._

_But that wasn’t what happened._

 

Misty shook in Cordelia’s arms, her memories rushing to the front of her mind and tormenting the bodyguard in ways which she hadn’t learnt to defend. The tears had already collected in her star-crafted blue eyes, still she was on the verge of sobbing and Cordelia was wiping away ever tear tat silently escaped and rolled down her porcelain cheeks. But then, even she was close to crying as well.

“W-When did all of this start?” the woman inquired, brushing her own stray tears away quickly in slight distain. She had no right to be crying, not when Misty sat beside her in her arms damn near sobbing.

“He s-started using my b-body when I was fourteen...” she whimpered, her head buried in the crook of the older woman’s neck, her tears soaking the others skin, but she didn’t even care by this point, just lovingly and securely holding onto the Cajun,

“And the beatings?” A moment of silence began to press between them, but Cordelia was having none of it, “Misty when did he first beat you?” she asked again, reassuringly yet softly rubbing the officers back, soothing the cries that left her throat.

“I was eight,” Day managed, her voice breaking, weak and sore from her tears as if she didn’t even have the strength to sound upset any more. Still, that didn’t stop the older woman from being any less abhorred, her mouth hanging open in horrified shock before fury flashed in front of her dark eyes.

“That’s so young! Too young! God, please tell me he's at least in prison! Misty, what happened to him?” she blurted, her breath staggering as she awaited answers, half on the verge of calling the police already. Misty was a pure angel, so sweet and smart, and witty, she didn’t deserve any of this monstrosity that plagued the darkest parts of her mind.

Day glanced up at the woman with eyes coated in a sheen of swimming tears, the shade of blue seemed to take on a green tinge with her collecting tears.

_CPO Day slinked through her old house with the stealth of a panther, stealing through familiar corridors as she listened to the obnoxious tell-tale noise, indicating that her stepfather would be watching one of those wrestling matches on TV._

_She was only back here for a minute or so to grab her files for the case she was currently working on, after she had left in too much haste the last time. But after managing to get through to her room undetected, Misty was sure it would be as easy to get back out._

_Her client was waiting outside, by the front gate and just out of view from everyone next to the overgrowing hedges. Day had promised the woman she wouldn’t be long and now, Misty desperately shoved her work files into her satchel, taking one last glance at what had once been her bedroom. Nothing had changed save for the thick layer of dust blanketing every surface. The purple bedspread remained creaseless with lack of contact and all her old college books still stacked on her desk in achievement. She hadn’t managed to get rid of them after finishing school, and she couldn’t even do that now._

_Maybe it was the idea of being back in the place she had called home, maybe it was the fact she had lost her sense of awareness, but when Day turned to leave, all her paperwork had been knocked off her bedside table, scattering heavily on the floor. She didn’t even stop to think, she ran._

_And that’s when she saw his twisted face, blocking the bottom of the stairs that she had been halfway descending, and her heart plummeted, blood turning to ice in her veins._

_“You little runt. Thinking you could sneak in my house, under my own nose and steal, you rotten thief!” His accusations where gruff and bold, dark eyes penetrating her crumbling soul, and for a second, everything in her body stopped working._

_“This is my Mama’s house, not yours. Ya don’t belong here, an’ I’m not afraid of ya anymore, I’ve dealt with men at the bureau that make you look like a fairy,” Misty defended, she had learnt how to take care of herself, and six years of learning defence gave her the confidence to argue with the man._

_“Your Mama? Your Mama is dead! You’re my little brat now. So, I suggest you go back upstairs and greet your daddy in a better way,” Her fury and temper grew, and before she knew it, her fist had connected with her step-fathers face, her knee jutting straight upwards and causing the grown man to sink to his knees, howling whilst Misty edged past him and quickly left the house._

_She made her way to the car in a sensible pace, not wanting to freak the woman out if she was running away like a maniac and held open the car door, nervously glancing back to the house she had just left._

_Her father appeared in the doorway, his face red and his piercings glowing in the sun light, almost the same shade as his ashen, blonde hair. From across the road, he was screaming a range of insults and curses as he stormed towards her, making the little girl inside of her panic and cry. She felt her heart accelerate wildly._

_For years, she had been bruised, beaten and assaulted, and hadn’t done a thing besides struggle. His jacket whipped behind him in the same wind that brushed through her golden curls reassuringly, strength and adrenaline coming to her aid._

_By now he was just meters away, the word slut and whore falling from his snarling lips more that once and the world was spinning around her, pulse quickening and breath catching in her throat._

_The little girl inside was screaming loudly, tears falling from her eyes, she had never been able to protect herself from the monster rapidly approaching. Her fingers curled around her gun, swiftly pulling the weapon from its holster. She was eerily calm as in seconds, she aimed and fired._

_And she hit him right in the chest, letting everything rather quickly turn red. But all Misty could do was stare down into those wide eyes that slowly grew lifeless, as he had always don’t to her when their roles were reversed._

 “I shot him,” Misty Day whispered finally in a calm tone, after crying all the tears that she had to cry and she laid there in Cordelia’s arms, separated from the world around her. “That's why I became a bodyguard, I wanted ta be able ta protect others the way I couldn't protect myself. Plus, it meant that I didn' have ta go back home” she explained, while trying to distract herself by entwining her fingers with Foxx’s.

“Nobody should have to isolate themselves for protection.” The older woman stated in a hushed declaration, soothingly taking care of the curly-blonde in her embrace, pressing light kisses to the tear stains on her cheeks.

“Isn't that what ya do?” the officer inquired softly, earning a puzzled glance from the shorter blonde, and she continued, “Ya didn't let anyone in did ya? Ya didn't want ta let anyone close enough ta hurt ya, that's why ya pushed everyone away, that's why ya acted so cold, so dangerous, to keep everyone away. Even me… Miss Cordelia, ya don't have to keep building walls anymore,” Misty announced softly, canting her head slightly to meet the older woman’s lips in a gentle kiss.

“Does anyone else know?” the woman inquired after a while, not even letting Day out of her protective embrace.

“No… The world is so blind Dee! Nobody sees anything that they don’t want ta see. They take murderers and rapists and they neglect ta press charges because they don’t see. They don’t see when people are suffocating, drowning in nothing but their own life, people like me. The world doesn’t see the lonely emptiness, the deep black pit of nothingness inside, they don’t see anything different from one person among a crowd and they don’t see what happens behind walls and doors. The world is so blind, how so many cries for help go unseen and unnoticed till eventually it leads to people doing this,” With that she tugged up her sleeve resentfully, revealing her array of healed scars, bringing Cordelia to the verge of tears again.

“It’s a filthy goddamn world we live in.” Misty whispered, rolling the sleeve back down before settling back into the womans arms.

“No, I see you Misty” Cordelia Foxx announced, running her long, agile fingers through the girls soft, golden curls affectionately, pressing her lips gently to the girl’s forehead. She couldn’t be strong all the time, to today, it was her turn to protect her sweet, perfect bodyguard. “I see you, and you’re beautiful, and Misty… you’re so strong, you’re a survivor, and I’m so proud of you,” the older woman whispered, and the latter words caused a gasp to fall from the Cajuns slightly parted lips.

Nobody had ever told her that they were proud of her…

“Ya… ya are?” She whispered, in dire need of confirmation as she looked back up into those dark eyes that she fell in love with,

“I am, I’m so so proud of you, my brave Misty Day,” Cordelia assured, gently caressing her sweet, porcelain cheek and subconsciously, the bodyguard leant further into her warm, delicate and pleasing touch.

“I love ya so darn much, Miss Cordelia,” the girl commented, cuddling close the shorter blonde on the couch, tucking her legs up behind her.

“I love you too, babe, to the moon and back,” she promised, catching Misty’s chin in between her forefinger and thumb and brought her lips lovingly to her own yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, little question, what do you guys want to see more of: interaction with minor characters; their sarcastic humour; fluff; progress in their relationship; emotional stuff, or are you all going to kill me and ask for everything? Let me know if there is something specific you’d like me to include.


	11. Next step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can not apologise enough for disappearing, I did have my reasons as I am sure you'll understand. I am trying very hard to get back into writing, especially this fic, because, well I love it. I hope you guys are okay with being patient for me... but I promise I'm going to get this done. I love you all!  
> ~ Baby Fangirl
> 
> Oh and NSFW, This chapters is basically all sex...  
> Enjoy!

_“I was in love… I don’t know what else you want me to say? I was in love with her and it was beautiful, the journey from pure loathing to having this best friend that I could laugh with and love… I was richer in those moments than I had ever been before.” ~Cordelia Foxx_

* * *

* * *

 

 

Cordelia didn’t want to leave her room.

Namely because she had a day off, and wanted to spend some time alone… also because she woke hot and flustered after another inappropriate dream of her bodyguard had roused her interests.

It was getting ridiculous. This was the fourth occurrence and Mrs Foxx had been turning to… alternate routes to rid herself of the pent up sexual energy, taking care of herself before she fell asleep in hope she’d be satisfied through the night being one.

But she couldn’t help it! Misty Day, in her tight fitting suits practically gave her eyes an orgasm every time she saw her… Misty Day without her tight fitting suits even better. Well, either was, Cordelia didn’t want to leave her room, pretty sure she couldn’t look at the Cajun this morning without blushing.

She stripped of her uncomfortable damp pyjama pants, ridding herself of her shirt too while she was at it, and shivered under the depth of the situation. What she had with Misty… was unusual, but they’d come to an agreement that nothing major would happen until she had figured what to do with Hank…

Hank. Her skin crawled with the very though, but she shut out the thought, still needing to take care of her little Misty problem this morning.

Cordelia sauntered to the stereo, firstly, because music always calmed her this way, and secondly, she figured it would mask any accidental slips of noise whilst doing what she must certainly not be doing.

Laying herself on the bed, the woman’s own fingers clenched into tight fists before sketching swirling patterns down her body. She traced the curves of her hips, up her waist, across her stomach and skated down her body.

Irregular patterns raced across her skin, each entirely unique from the other, much like a fingerprint. She gasped gently as her fingers skirted lower, tracing around her labia without even the sheets to offer privacy.

Her eyes fluttered closed and in an instant, images of CPO Day swarmed her mind. She imagined that her own fingers instead belonged to the Cajun, as they found their way into the warmth of her core.

Foxx whimpered as fingers that weren’t so imaginary parted her labia and buried deep inside her quivering, hot sex, already soaked from the night fantasizing over the younger blonde. They searched out her most sensitive nerves with practiced ease, kneading and rubbing and spreading every inch of her in their search for pleasure.

 Her fingers worked to the beat of the music, pushing in deeper during her favorite parts of the song. Her eyes screwed shut tight enough stars erupted in the darkness behind her closed lids, her mind swimming in lustful ecstasy.

“ _M-Misty_ ,” she whimpered her bodyguards name into the warm air of her bedroom. Her climax came quickly and lasted longer than usual, her toes curling and back arching off the messed sheets. Her body shivered and quaked as her orgasm wracked through her. Waves of pleasure washed over her before finally dying down, leaving her floating in serenity.

She felt light as a feather, finally released from all the pressing lust that had been weighing on her since waking up. After a few moments of deep breathing, she slowly opened her eyes before gasping loudly, her body freezing in surprise.

“Hey there, Delia” Misty smiled sheepishly, her usually pale complexion now scarlet in places as she sat patiently on the chair in front of the dresser. How had she not heard the taller blonde come in? But still, it was obvious from the awkward half-smile that she’d been there the entire time.

“Mist, I- I…” Cordelia was completely frozen in place as she tried to stutter out some form of apology, not even thinking to cover herself. She tried her undoubtedly hardest to come up with some explanation as to what she’d been doing, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that no reason in the world could would possibly clarify why she was just moaning Misty’s name.

“Ya know, I only came in here to ask if ya were okay- ya music was on… and ya weren’t answerin’ my texts. But I guess I got a little too distracted by the amazin’ show I’d walked in on... Was that all for me?” Day asked, an eyebrow raised as she awaited the answer to her partially rhetorical question.

Cordelia could feel her face grow even hotter with embarrassment and she tried to sink into the very mattress in shame.

“I’m sorry Misty… I-I didn’t mean anything by it, I-”

“Aw, shucks. I sure damn wish ya had,” The Officer smirked, pushing curly blonde tresses into place behind her ear. She didn’t really know what to say, but she had evidently gotten herself beyond turned on, watching Cordelia touch herself like that.

“Sorr- wait… sorry, _what_ ,” The older blonde was terribly confused. She’d expected Misty to be ashamed, alarmed or even angry with her, for doing something so _inappropriate_ with Misty’s name hot on her lips. Instead the Cajun was… _flirting?_

 “I just want ya ta answer one question, Miss Cordelia. Do ya want me ta close my eyes, leave this room and forget this ever happened? Or would ya like me ta climb onta that bed an’ help ya out a little?” The girl pulled herself from the chair, moving to perch on the edge of Cordelia’s bed. Her full lips formed the tiniest of smirks while her playful eyes glittered brilliant blue.

She was lost in the way that Day watched her. The subtle shift in Misty’s face from hungered curiosity to concern happened quickly enough that Cordelia didn’t catch it until she spoke again.

“If ya want me to go just say so,” CPO Day whispered as she stood up straight, quickly pacing towards the door to the bedroom. She didn’t mean to make Cordelia uncomfortable; removing herself from the situation would be the fastest way to get the smaller woman to relax after her embarrassment. She’d had her hand on the doorknob before Mrs Foxx called out to her.

“Wait! Misty?” the bodyguard turned on her heels to look to the woman, curled up on the bed with her knees to her chest. “The second one,” she whispered softly. Her cheeks were as red as fire and her wide eyes projected every emotion running through her mind. Confusion, excitement, curiosity, concern, lust.

The taller girl walked gracefully towards the bed, her thumbs hooking themselves under the hem of her white blouse and pulled the cloth over her head whilst Cordelia watched in rapt fascination, this would do nothing for her night time predicament.

“Scooch over, doll,” Misty whispered, reaching behind her and unhooked her bra, brown aze lingering entirely on her well shaped, petite breasts. Without missing a step, Misty discarded both items carelessly. Turning her scarred back towards the smaller woman, she made a show of slipping out of her long black pants and then her boyshorts, which joined the other clothes scattered across the floor.

Cordelia could feel her heart drumming against her chest as she watched Day’s show, her head felt light and her breaths came quick, shallow and excited. She watched as the woman she’d fallen in love with slowly turned back around to face her, and her eyes darted back up to make proper eye contact with Misty, just so staring didn’t get awkward.

“Delia, I kinda need ya to scooch over if ya really want me in that bed with ya,” The Cajun purred softly, placing a quick kiss against Cordelia’s forehead, that, they were used to.

“Oh- _oh_ , sorry! I’m little distracted I guess,” the woman laughed nervously, sliding over to one side of the bed, leaving plenty of room for the other girl, watching as Misty crawled into the place beside her.

The shorter woman watched in awe as Day’s muscles flexed under her tight skin, lost in the way her curves flowed as she moved. She was like a predator.

“What do ya find most distracting ‘bout me, Cordelia” Misty asked curiously with a dash of pretend innocence. Their foreheads touched gently, Delia’s soft, full lips brushed against the officer’s firm pair with every word. On instinct the smaller of the two tried to catch them in a quick kiss, but Misty was just a moment too quick to allow her to do so.

“Your blue eyes” Cordelia finally admitted candidly, whimpering softly in her desire for contact. She looked away in embarrassment, wishing she’d said something less unbelievably corny.

“Ya think so?” CPO Day asked delightedly. Making a point of being hugely flattered by the compliment and the older woman giggled softly, glad to have made the girl somewhat happy.

 _“She should already know she’s insanely pretty,”_ she thought to herself.

“Although…” Misty began _, “_ I don’t think _that’s_ why you’re so distracted by me.” She jabbed her accusation teasingly, waiting for Cordelia to crack and brushed a few locks of her loose curls behind her ear. “I think you were looking... _elsewhere_ ,” She prompted, her breath tickling the older woman’s skin and made her shiver.

“I love your body, your long legs, your hips, your breasts,” Cordelia listed, before stuttering, “I’m sorry,”

“Shhh,” Day cut her friend off instantly, pressing a finger against her own lips and the other quieted instantly “Don’t ya apologize … Just… take what ya want.” Misty offered, her voice dripping with sultry insinuation, causing Cordelia to gulp with uncertainty.

The bodyguard continued by softly placing Cordelia’s hand against her own waist. She had wanted this for forever, and couldn’t begin to care about waiting any more. Still, Cordelia quickly followed with her other hand, wrapping them both in the dip of the girls waist and squeezing tightly.

Misty began to caress the woman’s impressive jawline, pulling her closer, until their lips met, roughly; with her leading, it grew more passionate, more purposeful. A quick nip at Delia’s lower lip produced a wavered gasp from the shorter blonde, her body shuddering in desperation and anticipation.

The heat was already growing intensely. Her body was on fire, her muscles aching for friction and release from the pressure that was building in her core.

“Tell me what ya want, Delia,” the curly haired blonde whispered. She nipped at Delia’s earlobe, eliciting a breathy gasp from the other. The woman whined, her voice cracking as she tried to answer her. nothing more than a soft squeak leaving her lips. She took a shaky breath and tried again.

“Please, M-Misty… _please_ ,” she whined, leaning towards Misty and stealing a quick kiss. Her hands reached up behind her head, fingers tangling in messy, golden locks as she desperately sought purchase.

Resentfully, Day removed her hands from Cordelia’s hips, strong fingertips moving in the slowest of rhythms and tracing hearts against the warm, soft flesh of her thighs and Fox squirmed, hips moving closer in an attempt to press her sex against the girl, searching for any amount of friction against nerves that craved it the most.

 _' I’m surprised I’ve been able ta keep my hands off of her for this long,'_ the younger girl thought to herself. Her fingertips brushed against Cordelia’s labia, stroking haphazardly, causing her to gasp in surprise and shudder; her hands untangling from Misty’s hair to clutch onto milky white hips.

“Dee, Ya okay?” The question was asked as fingertips slowly parted flushed labia, Day’s thumb just barely brushing against the woman’s clit. The gentle ministrations sent Cordelia’s mind soaring, her heart racing quickly as she nodded in response. Long whines and choked whimpers the only pleas she could form as the other woman’s thumb ghosted over her clit.

“Use your words, Delia. Please? For me?” Misty knew she was now teasing the woman. Deliberate and patient, despite her own arousal- her body yearning for attention just as much as Cordelia’s- she pressed on, wanting to hear sweet lips and desperate sighs beg for _exactly_ what she wanted to hear.

“Yes! Misty, please! I need you,” Cordelia shuddered, feeling her fingertips skating suggestively against her inner thighs and responded with another choked gasp.

 Misty almost paused with concern, but she just looked so _beautiful_ writhing beneath her. Her body rolling, hips bucking. Chocolate eyes rolled to the back of her skull behind thick, fluttering lashes with each touch of friction against her body. Cordelia needed her- craved her. And Day took pity.

 Her fingers pressing against soft petals, slipping into the warmth of Cordelia’s sex.

_Almost._

Two long fingers thrust into her, spreading quivering muscles on their journey to her core and the sharpest of squeaks slipped passed her lips. The mounting pressure made her squirm and she was suddenly extremely aware of how longer Misty’s fingers were compared to her own. She felt ready to burst her body quivering as Day worked her way deeper.

Biting her lip, she could feel Misty’s finger spread her even wider- The sensations drowned her out- she was a slave to her body’s need for release. Her fingernails scratched down and clawing the girls hips as her breath hitched and her eyes screwed shut. This was what she needed, this was perfection.

Misty continued that rhythmic ministration, slipping her fingers in and out, working up an admirable pace. Cordelia couldn’t contain her moans, especially not with Day’s fingers, buried knuckle-deep within her and her thumb circled her clit.

She was now plunging her fingers rapidly into the woman’s wet heat, slamming into her core faster and roughly curled her fingers. She was hitting every spot that drove Cordelia absolutely wild with overwhelming pleasure.

The muscles in her thighs spasmed and shook as her body quivered around Misty’s fingers. Another relentless thrust into her dripping centre and a gentle brush of Day’s thumb against her clit finally pushed her over the edge.

Her orgasm had built for what seemed like an eternity, and as the dams of her pleasure broke they came down violently. Her thighs squeezed tightly together around Misty’s hand, her core clenching around the digits kneading against her sensitive nerves. The orgasm left her breathless, her eyes rolling back behind fluttering lashes.

The officer’s fingers slowed their rhythms, but never stopped as she continued her ministrations. Fingers swirling as they pressed forward, she watched as Cordelia floated on the waves of pleasure. The smaller woman seemed to be caught in a dream, lips parted in a perfect pink ‘o’ shape of pleasure as gentle gasps filled her lungs.

 Determined, Day slowly picked up the pace again. She crooked her fingers, folding them in the familiar beckoning motion and the breathless blonde was quickly overwhelmed yet again by the pressure rising in her sensitive core. Delicate to every touch after her orgasm, she whimpered quietly as Misty’s thumb continued to circle her clit with added pressure.

“Mist… I’m… I al- already-”

“Shh, darlin’. It’s okay, trust me,” she purred softly, and smirked as Cordelia nodded, turning her head to the side to bury her face in the sheets as she tried to muffle her next few gasps.

There was just so much about Cordelia’s body CPO Day enjoyed, the way her body reacted to the ongoing curling and pushing of her fingers.

Delia’s second orgasm came quickly, sneaking up on them both. After less than a minute of spreading her fingers, the older woman reached her next peak with a soundless gasp and Misty grinned, rewarding her with dozens of tiny kisses.

Fingers still buried between Cordelia’s soft petals, Misty slowly brought the woman down from the plains of ecstasy. She was spent, tired, sore and smiling, a weak breath of laughter sounding from her lips. It had been much better than she could have ever anticipated.

“Misty…” The woman began, but the Cajun’s lips on her own paused it all, kissing the woman she was in love with, with all the energy she had left.

“I love ya, Dee,” Misty laid down beside her, blue eyes watching her intently. Cordelia finally managed to come back to reality after her mind-blowing orgasms.

She turned on her side, kissing the wild blonde again, as her hand trailed down the girls stomach and in between her legs. "I love you too,".


	12. Fashion and Florists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I apologise for my unplanned Hiatus that took over a year. And I am trying very hard to get back into things.  
> Secondly, this is just a cover in chapter, which not much plot, but hopefully next chapter will be much easier to write! I promise it wont take all year this time.  
> Thirdly, I made a trailer for this Fanfiction, which can be found under my other works or by this link: https://youtu.be/nZvNWRNyvOw

_“The past hurts, the future is anxiety in a pocket watch, but the moments I spent with her, the present,_ _they were the gifts I never got for Christmas,” ~Misty Day_

* * *

 

“I hate ya,” Misty mumbled under her breath, but still loud enough to reach the older womans ears as she felt her muscles burn with liquid fire all along her forearm and stretch up to scorch her shoulder blades.

“I know,” Cordelia Foxx replies without even the decency to turn around and look at the Cajun, a secret smile plastered to her smooth, plump lips, awaiting the next of her bodyguards complaint.

CPO Day scowled at her back, forcing her features into a grimacing frown, “I ain’t even jokin’,”

“I know,” she repeated with a small laugh, finally pausing to turn around and watch the younger woman struggle.

“Then tell me, Miss Cordelia, why are ya draggin’ me around a shopping centre in the sweltering heat of the day?” Close protection officer Day demanded as she lugged two equally heavy bags around the gigantic mall, a breathless exhale tumbling past her lips as the older woman shepherded her into another shop.

A few days subsequent to Misty’s emotional outburst, Cordelia had felt it necessary that a shopping spree was in order and apparently, according to the business woman, they had to go in every other shop, despite the older blonde only being in need of one shade of lipstick and a carton of milk… how terrible.

And somehow, by a great force of magic unknown to mankind, Cordelia Foxx had managed to buy almost everything under the sun besides that one shade of lipstick, the Eiffel tower and a carton of milk; heck, she had even bought an ornamental globe to sit on one of the side tables in the dining room… did she need it? No! Would she use it? Probably not. Did she just want it just to fill the space in her house and the space in the bag that her bodyguard was carrying? Absolutely 100% yes. By some means this was logical.

“You’re my bodyguard, aren’t you? Those damn bags would rip off my arms! You’re protecting me!” The woman fussed, pausing to convey a range of incense burners.

“From ya own shopping?” the wild blonde cried, struggling to unbutton the top button on her blouse to allow her to cool just a little, the bags making it hard for her hands to reach just above her stomach. From all her years of training in the bureau, the endless hours of pushing, lifting, punching… just to have more than a couple of shopping bags stop her in her tracks? She didn’t think so.

Misty was brought out of her personally agonizing thoughts by the awfully excited tone of Cordelia’s voice, her gaze breaking away from a row of belts she hadn’t even realized she had been staring at. “Try this on!” the older woman voted, a cheeky grin plastered upon her face. She was holding up coat hanger that was supporting full length denim dungarees, and the Cajun had to try her best to not laugh.

“Are ya serious? No way!” she laughed, brushing Cordelia aside to continue their ten-hour-long browse.

“Why? You’ll look cute!” The older woman persisted jeeringly, her grin so bright that Misty felt her heart leap in ways that she never knew it was capable of… looks like her organs knew gymnastics. Still, she fixed her secret lover with her best _you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me_ looks, shaking her head this time, causing a strand of curly blonde hair to fall loose from its ponytail. “I’ll wear somethin if you do…” Cordelia bargained.

The bodyguard stopped in her tracks, eyeing the older woman suspiciously, “Can I pick?” after receiving a nod of confirmation, the Cajun meddled the thought over through her head before swiping the hanger from the shorter blonde’s hand.

Cordelia dragged her by the hand over to the changing stalls, sitting expectantly on one of the chairs, before verbally ushering Misty behind the curtain to change.

Day neatly folded her uniform and placed it on the tiny stool in the corner of the dressing room, before judging the set of dark blue dungarees that Cordelia had picked out for her, and with a sigh, the curly haired blonde wriggled into the attire, jumping a little to try and get comfortable in the denim.

In a split decision she pulled the hair tie out and let the golden waves cascade over her shoulders before pushing back the curtain and modelled the clothing for the other woman.

“Oh my Goodness, it totally suits you!” Cordelia beamed, obviously for her own incredible judgement, clapping in silent excitement.

“Alrigh’ lil miss Cocky, your turn,”.

Misty had put Cordelia in a Victorian dress, a pair of skinny jeans, a pair of pyjamas, and a small kilt that she swore was for women… and in turn, Cordelia had her bodyguard try on some overalls, a swimsuit and last but certainly not least, a Jack Sparrow Costume.

They were _so_ close to buying it.

 

“Misty look!” Delia gasped with soft admiration

“No absolutely not, no!”

“Please, Put them on!” She begged, a soft pout tingling upon her countenance.

CPO day sighed, and would have pinched he bridge of her nose had her arms not been weighed down by countless bags. “If I wear the sunglasses will ya promise not to nag at me for the next two- three hours!” she implored desperately.

“Deal!” Cordelia smiled, grabbing the glasses and pushing them on Misty’s nose, quickly pecking her lips afterwards. “Day! You look so badass, you’re a total FBI babe. I’m buying them,”

The curly blonde quickly began to protest, “Delia, no, no you don’t no-”

“Whatcha gonna do Star eyes? It’s not like you can even lift your arms to stop me,” the shorter blonde sweetly teased before buying the glasses and waddling Misty out of yet another shop.

 

It wasn’t too long before Misty’s grumpy façade melted away and her interest was piqued again, “Delia we’re grabbing a milkshake!” She insisted, suddenly tugging on the tips of the womans fingers.

“Why?” The Goode woman asked abruptly.

“Why? Because ya have forced me in and out of every clothin’ shop on the first second and third floor, including Lingerie!” She shouted, “So in turn fer getting ragged around on a leash… don’t ya dare laugh! You and I are goin’ ta take a break and get a milkshake, if that, my dearest, is in the slightest bit alright with you!”

Cordelia had to fight back a soft giggle, tucking a stray golden lock behind misty’s ear that must have come loose during her adorable, playful fit of rage.

“Alright, Lead the way Jack Sparrow,” she teased.

“It’s _Captain_ Jack sparrow to ya.”

“Just… Please tell me you’re not considering buying one of those damn chocolatey drinks that contains roughly thirteen teaspoons of sugar,” Foxx contemplated almost judgingly as she arched a critical brow towards her bodyguard

Misty feigned a hurt gasp, “No, I’m just going to _look_ at one of those damn chocolatey drinks that contains roughly thirteen teaspoons of sugar. The Aztecs thought chocolate was food of the gods, and let me say this, they weren’t wrong, chocolate was their riches, worth more than gold. This is the drink of the divine!”

“You sound like a poor chocolate-depraved soul that took a turn for the worst,”

* * *

 

**_One month Later_ **

 

“Misty Goddamn Day!”

“Cordelia I’m-tryin-ta-be-nice-here-and-not-call-ya-names-so-I-don’t-get-my-ass-kicked Foxx!”

“I can not believe you! Directly disobeying my orders!”

“It’s not like I hurt anyone!”

“I don’t care CPO Day! How many times do I have to tell you not to get me flowers!? I’m starting to run out of room!” Cordelia scorned with an unmistakable smile on her lips proving that she didn’t actually mind the bouquets that were coming from florists and gardens every other day, and Foxx had been forced to buy two new vases this week alone.

Now she stood in the dining room, arranging a thrillingly beautiful display of snapdragons and orchids, affectionately running her fingertips across the petals. The Cajun had been ‘surprising’ (It was hard to surprise a person with a gift they were getting every two to three days) Cordelia with all sorts of plants and flowers, making sure to point out the ‘Aaah Misty’s’ with her dorky grin shining on her lips that made Cordelia melt into her arms and kiss her.

“What flowers?” the bodyguard entered the room with a cheese-spreaded bagel, pretending to act innocent and oblivious. The shorter blonde turned to face her with a direct frown gesturing dramatically to the vase that she’d set up on the table and Misty slowly nodded as if she was investigating a crime scene. “Hmm… _those_ flowers,”

“Yes, _these_ flowers. You are such a great detective! They must be burning a hole in your wallet!” Cordelia tried to act stern, the arch of her brow that had once sent a chill down Day’s spine now just caused her heart to jump for joy as she wrapped one arm around the woman to pull her close into a soft kiss.

Misty broke the kiss with a delighted smile, “Officer, not detective, I’m no Basil, Gibbs or Sherlock, but from my experience in the force, the flowers are of no threat, That’s why I allowed them through the front door,”

“You’re being silly now, Star-eyes,” Cordelia smiled up at the curly blonde.

A soft pout tugged at the officers lips as she cocked her head on the side, “Hey, how come I don’t have a nickname for you?” she inquired in slight offence, glancing back to the neatly arranged flowers on the table.

“I’m still your plant nerd aren’t I?” the older woman ensured, tugging on the taller womans hand, “Now, help me find a place to put this tiny cactus that you sent me,” Foxx released Misty to pick up the very small and spikey plant.

 

“Delia, that one ain’t mine,” The bodyguard stated with a tone of concern cutting into her voice, suddenly confused when Cordelia started laughing.

“Okay, none of these flowers are from you, they’re all from my mysterious secret admirer, is that any better darling?” She teased, reaching out to curl a tray strand of golden tresses around her finger, oblivious to the quite obvious glare from her protection officer.

Misty pulled back, shaking her head and frustrated, “I’m serious! I didn’ get ya that cactus,” her voice almost broke into high-pitched as she spoke, grabbing the plant from Cordelia’s hands before inspecting it closely. “There’s a tag,” Day murmured before turning her head to read the scrawled letters. “H. F. and there’s a funny scribble… I think it’s supposed to be a love heart…”

“Hank,” the older woman breathed, glancing at the label with an expression colder than gorgon-turned stone. He hadn’t phoned in two weeks and all of a sudden he was protruding Cacti from the blue? “I think I’ve suddenly found the best place for this,” Cordelia stated with such refined grace and disturbingly calm anger, reminding Misty so much of Mrs Goode.

She watched the woman as she took back the potted plant and depositing it straight into the trash.

 

 

Cordelia hadn’t felt so happy in a long time, cuddled up to Day in her bed in the late evening, watching Sweeney Todd. That was Misty’s fault. The Cajun loved the film, and sang along to every song… Cordelia on the other hand pretended not to know the words to every song.

She just laid there, smiling at how a woman like Misty was currently in the middle of her one person duet extravaganza of ‘pretty women’ and how oddly hilarious it all was. She could stay in such sweet serenity for forever.

That was… until they both heard a door slam from downstairs, causing the women to jump and Misty’s wrist flew to the gun that she’d left on the bedside cabinet, still sitting upright in bed with the barrel aimed directly at the door.

“Honey, you’re not going to believe this!” the masculine voice called up the stairs, causing Cordelia’s heart to sink with dread.

“Hank!”

“Hank?” Misty was already out of bed, pushing her uniform under the bed before laying flat on her stomach and pulled herelf across the floor so that she was out of sight, just as she saw the polished black shoes stop in the doorway.

“You’re in bed early! And you’re watching Demon Barber of Fleetstreet? Hope you’re not planning to put me in a pie just for working overtime,” Hank Foxx chuckled at his own joked as he leant forward and kissed his wife on the forehead, glancing back to the screen as Cordelia hurried to pause the movie.

“What are you doing here, Hank?” she chided in a tone that was obviously less than thrilled. He didn’t even seem to notice, and if he did, he was hardly fazed by it.

“I dropped by on my way through, Cooper has me running errands through the other side of town, I thought you’d be pleased to see my face?” he chuckled again and Misty gritted her teeth from beneath the bed, annoyed by that infuriating chuckle. It was as if Someone had stuffed a bag full of raccoons and shook it violently up and down.

“I… I am,” The woman stuttered, pulling the covers up around her waist. “It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you, at least so soon” she added, glancing at the hand Hank held out for her, and gingerly she took it. Cordelia had never remembered his hands feeling so rough and callous and cold.

“I know baby, I’m sorry, it’s been so hectic, and you know I hate staying in hotel rooms, when I have your company and cooking to look forward to,” Misty and Cordelia rolled their eyes simultaneously. Typical of a man.

“Room Service, google it,” Cordelia snatched back her hand, moving her gaze to the stationary screen.

Hank stood in awkward silence for a while, looking around the room. “I couldn’t help but notice all the flowers… did you fuck a florist while I was away?” his dry laugh echoed the room again.

“You’re stupid,” the blonde stated without looking at her dear beloved husband.

“Come on babe, what’s a florist got that I don’t?” he insisted, stepping in front of the bed and in front of the television set, snapping the womans attention back up to him.

“There is no florist, I just felt the need to liven the place up, it’s hard to do that with just me,” Cordelia reprimanded with a sigh, folding her hands in her lap as she fixed Hank with an unforgiving stare, one she had perfected all the years from looking at her mother.

Hank Foxx held his hands up in surrender, “I’m not accusing you Cordelia, baby, I promise. Now… How is Robichaux holding up after the shootings? Is Marlene any better?” he stepped forward, sitting down at the bottom of the bed, and Misty tucked her knees further up to her chest.

“ _Marie_ , and she’s managing,” Cordelia and her bodyguard had helped Marie back from the hospital last week and stayed for tea, not that he needed to know any of this.

“Marie… And, the business, it’s coping alright? No revolts, no… breakdowns?” Cordelia arched her brow, Just like Hank to be more interested in the works of Robichaux than the actual owner of it, his wife nonetheless.

“No, I’ve been managing very well, thank you,” she bit back with enough force that Hank’s easy going attitude faltered slightly and he shuffled rather awkward, making the bed creak. For a while, there was just uncomfortable silence shifting between the married couple.

“I’m so sorry that you have to burden yourself like this babe, you know I can help if you just trust me too,” he swallowed thickly.

“Hank… I don’t need your help, my mother has it all under control, you know that, but it was really nice of you to stop by… I’m surprised you remember that we live here” Cordelia added coldly, sounding more and more like Fiona.

“Look, I can’t apologize enough for not being here, you know I’d rather be here than anywhere else.” _Then why does it sound like you have someplace better to be?_ Goode mentally asked as she sighed, shaking her head softly from side to side.

“I know, but it’s been too long, and I-”

Hank held up his hand, effectively cutting his wife off mid-sentence. “I can’t stay unfortunately honey, what you’re saying sounds like a great phone conversation later, I have to dash before the weather kicks in, Love you” He leant in and landed another kiss to Cordelia’s forehead before vanishing out of the door.

 

It was a while later after hearing the front door close and lock that Misty reappeared, instantly cuddling into the woman who looked furious and hurt.

“Can you believe him? Waltzing in here and- and…” Cordelia whimpered in a quiet rage, sinking her head into the crook of her bodyguards neck as she shushes the older woman sweetly.

“He’s gone now, sweetie, he ain’t gonna be causin’ us any more trouble,” CPO Day promised delicately, running her fingers through the womans straightened tresses.

“He’s such a liar… to believe I’m _married_ to that – that…” she trailed off again, shaking her head, “The worst thing is, he smelt of Chanel Paris… I hate that smell, I never wear it.” She glanced up at Misty, almost smiling at the confused look that gathered in those cerulean eyes.

“If ya don’ like or wear it, how d’ya know that’s what he smelled of?” Misty asked.

“Because that… that’s the perfume that I bought my Secretary.”

 

 

* * *

 

The rain bounced loudly of the windshield, thundering upon the car roof like spoons on a tin can as Hank Foxx sat in the dark of an unmoving car parked behind the bushes that were more like a black looming shadow in this downpour.

He blew on his hands, rubbing them together to fight the chill before fishing his phone from his pocket, managing to unlock it and to type with shaky hands.

**To: [Unidentified Number]: No Luck, No Info, Couldn’t get her to say much.**

He sent the message and shivered in the car, almost seconds later, the phone chime alerted Hank to an incoming text which he hastily opened.

**Unidentified Number: I am disappointed in you Hank Renard. You will be alerted when and if there is use for you in the future. Delete this message.**


End file.
